No One's Bitch
by MissyMaestro
Summary: Daryl/OC. Daryl and Liz both have asshole brothers and feel like black sheep. Daryl's from the sticks and Liz is a pop star stuck in her hometown during the zombie apocalypse. Begins at Hershel's farm. Enjoy.
1. Celebrity

"Leave her alone, Shane. We've all heard her tell you off. Rick's back. That should make you happy - are you seriously disappointed your best friend is alive?" A black-haired woman stared defiantly at the once-sheriff's deputy. Her amber eyes gave away nothing, but a slightly tremble of her lip betrayed her nervousness about the encounter. Piercings sparkled in her ears and nose, and delicate black tattoos popped up here and there; one on her neck, another at her wrist. Her nostrils flared as she held her ground and stared at her brother.

Shane's lip curled and before he could stop himself, his hand flew up and swung toward the woman's face. Seeing the blow coming, the girl ducked and struck out. Shane easily avoided her blow and took hold of her shoulders and drove her back against the wall.

"Like this is helping your cause," the girl snarled. "Everyone on this farm hates you. Rick. Lori. Hershel. Patricia. Everyone. Quit giving us more reason to."

"Us?" Shane barked, slapping the girl across the face. "You one of them now? You forget who your family is?"

"You son of a-"

"You keep your mouth shut and we'll be all right. Ain't got no bodyguards now, do ya?" Shane sneered in her face before turning and storming across the room. The door slammed with a BANG as Shane stalked off.

The black haired girl stared out the door with a scowl on her face. She winced as she pulled her nose ring back into place. She let out an annoyed groan and plopped down on the couch to fold laundry. How life had changed. In the past year she'd become a Top 40 chart singer, but when she came home to Georgia expecting R&R, she was greeted with the zombie apocalypse and a band of rag-tag survivors to band with. Liz Clark may have been a celebrity, but she knew that wouldn't help her here.

"Evr'thing okay in here?" a drawl came from the porch.

"Fine," the girl answered quickly. She wiped at her nose and checked the back of her hand for blood. Nothing this time.

"Didn't sound fine." The screen door swung open and Daryl Dixon walked in. He studied the girl's face. "He hit you, didn't he? I wouldn't put it past that sonmabitch." He shifted the crossbow he had slung across his back. "Ain' right." His eyes were narrow slits; he was obviously livid.

Liz hadn't spoken to him much; as a matter of fact, he'd kept his distance from her. His brother had hit on her mercilessly before he was left chained to a rooftop in Atlana, and Daryl had always seemed mortified by both details. "I'm not bleeding," Liz replied casually. "I'm fine. Just some sibling sparring, that's all. It's not like I have an abusive husband." She rolled her eyes and forced a laugh.

"Ain' funny." Daryl leaned against the doorframe and stuck a hand in his pocket. "I don't care if he's your brother. Mine used to beat the shit out of me but that's different 'cause I could swing back. Ain' right to hit a woman. Don' we got 'nough problems roun' here?"

The girl raised an eyebrow. "I've got some laundry to do, and I'm sure you've got something better to do than play guardian angel. I'm not a kid, Daryl. I've dealt with Shane all my life."

Daryl stared at her, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. "How old're you, anyway? 20?"

"I'm 27, thank you very much." The girl replied. She tilted her head and looked at him. "I don't think we've talked. Not directly. I'm sorry 'bout your brother."

"I'm sorry about yours." Daryl turned to leave, then hesitated and called over his shoulder, "You might want to get some ice. Your lip's starting to swell." The door snapped shut again and Daryl stormed out.

"You dumbass, Daryl's all pissed off because he heard you clock me." The girl stormed into Shane's tent and poked him in the chest. Maybe she was provoking him further, but she felt oddly empowered that her brother's abuse wasn't going unnoticed.

"What's he sticking his nose into it for? You ain't his family." Shane snapped the safety on his pistol and tucked it into his waistband. He stood and looked down at his sister. "Listen here, Lizzy, I mean it. Keep your damn mouth shut. No one needs to know what happened to Otis. Glenn and Dale are already making up ideas. I don't need that fueled. Lori and I are getting back to a good place and she can't find out."

"You're getting to a good place? She is _married_." Liz shook her head. "Shane, it was great that you took care of her and Carl when we thought Rick was dead. Really. But he's not dead, and that's not your job."

"Shut up," Shane growled, getting in his sister's face. "It don't matter what you say. You aren't her. You don't get it. We had something."

"Shane," Lizzy whispered. "This ain't you at all."

"What do you know, anyway? You've been gone for months. Your hot shot Hollywood life changed you." Shane's nostrils flared. "The sister I remember would have my back."

"I was gone to work, Shane. Tour." Lizzy sighed. They'd been through the argument a million times before. Shane thought she was worthless. "I make people happy."

"Yeah, if that's that you call it." Shane snorted. "What're you up to, anyway? Running in here, saying Daryl's coming after me. I'd like to see him try." Shane gave a bark of laughter and cracked his neck. "He can join up with Dale and we'll have a right Royal Rumble." He laughed to himself as he left Lizzy alone in his tent.

"You're losing it, Shane," she called after him, thankful he didn't lash out at her again. While finding the farm had largely been a blessing, it gave Shane just enough security that he focused on being at terror instead of survival.

"Want to stand guard for a minute? I need a drink of water." Glen took off his cap and wiped his brow. "Pretty warm today."

"So you're going to go talk to Maggie." Liz grinned, then nodded. "Get out of here. I ain't got nowhere else to be."

"Thanks, Liz. I'll be back soon." Glenn trotted off toward the house.

"Take your time," Lizzy groaned as she crawled up onto the RV. Dale was off working something out with Andrea and everyone else was working on fixing dinner. Sophia's search crew had just returned empty-handed again. Carol had taken to spending time with Lori and that left her singled out. Night was beginning to fall, and she enjoyed the breeze in her hair. Liz plopped down in the chair, then eyed the guitar sitting there. Glenn had been trying to teach himself, and she'd enjoyed watching him figure it out. He'd asked her for lessons, but they'd always been too busy to take the time. Picking up the instrument, she glanced around and made sure no one was paying attention. She strummed a few chords before singing a song to herself. Having  
guitar strings under her fingers again felt good, she had to admit. She played as she scanned the horizon for walkers. Multi-tasking, she convinced herself.

"What the hell's that garbage?"

Lizzy quickly sat the guitar down and felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "I didn't know anyone was down there," she called into the RV. "Sorry."

"At least you could play some Skynyrd if you're going to wake a man up." Daryl glanced up and grinned at her. He ruffled his hair and squinted at her. "S'that new? I ain' heard that song."

Laughing, Liz shook her head. "Nah, it's old. No one liked it so I dumped it."

"Shouldn' have." Daryl left the RV and climbed up to the roof with her. "Go on. Play somethin' else."

"Oh, I don't want to bring Walkers in. Besides, I don't want anyone to think-"

"Who gives a shit what they think?" Daryl cut in. He gazed at her for a moment before nodding. "Lip looks a lot better."

Liz self-consciously touched her lip, which Shane had split open right before their last meeting.

"I ain't seen no more black eyes on you. Shane been leavin' you alone, then?" When Lizzy nodded, Daryl smirked. "Good."

Liz grimaced. "What'd you do? Did you say something? To HIM?"

"Nothin'." Daryl scanned the horizon for walkers.

"Are you sure?" Liz raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry about it."

"Daryl," Liz breathed. "No."

"Shut up. Play me a song." Daryl unfolded the canvas chair and sat down in it. "Go on. You woke me up and it might as well be for something."

"Oh, I've wanted to ask you to play something for us," a voice came from below as Liz strummed the first bars to her latest single; an upbeat song.

Liz paused and looked down from the RV to find Carol standing with her hands clasped. "Do you mind? Can I listen?" Carol peered up at the pair. "I was just coming to get you for dinner. That's my favorite song! At least it was when we still had radios."

"Mine too," Daryl added.

Liz laughed and stopped strumming. "What?!"

Carol laughed. "I'd not have taken you for a Liz Clark fan, Daryl!" She hesitated. "No offense."

Liz shook her head. "None taken. I'm just as surprised."

Daryl scratched the back of his neck. "It's nice."

With that, Liz played her song and finished with an overexaggerated bow. "Thank you, thank you. I'm here until the Walkers take me." She laughed.

Carol applauded wildly. "I've been trying to hold it in, with everything going on," she chirped. "I couldn't believe we met up with you. I figured you'd have bodyguards and a fortified mansion somewhere! Come to dinner, I'd love to hear some stories."

"Oh, I took guard duty from Glenn. He's at dinner with Maggie. I promise I'll catch up with you at breakfast, or tonight."

Daryl took the guitar from her hand. "I've got it. Go."

"Oh, I'm sorry to bother you," Carol exclaimed. "If you're on guard duty, you're on guard duty."

"You sure?" Liz asked. "You should get dinner. You were out all day."

"Bring me somethin' when you're done," Daryl suggested.

"All right, all right." Liz smiled. "Thank you." As she climbed back down the ladder, she laughed, "I'm no good up there, anyway."

"Hey," Daryl called. "Just because your idiot brother tells you that don't mean it's true." He laid the guitar back down. "Just play another song for me later."

Carol giggled behind her hand and elbowed Liz in the ribs. "I can't believe he's a fan."

Liz glanced up to Daryl and flashed him a smile. "Later."


	2. ShaneProbz

Another day, another search party. Daryl had snuck a horse from the barn and headed up onto the bluffs to search for Sophia. Rick and Shane had headed another direction. Liz had parked herself atop the RV until Andrea relievedher. Now she strolled across the yard to the porch, where Carl was sitting and staring at his boots.

"Hey, Short Stuff. What're you up to?"

"Nothing," Carl pouted. "No one lets me do anything. Sophia is out there and I can't help or do anything."

"You were just shot," Liz replied. "You aren't going anywhere. We don't need two missing kids, or worse."

Carl scowled.

"Hey, keep your face like that and it's gonna stick," Liz said. She'd known the Grimeses for ages. Rick and Shane grew up together, and she'd befriended Lori when she and Rick started dating. When she went out on the road, she'd kept in touch. Having a normal cirlce kept her grounded.

"Maybe I want it to." Carl stuck his lip out even further.

"Maybe a bird will poop on your lip if you keep it sticking out like that."

Carl finally cracked a smile. "Maybe you're just being dumb."

"Hey," Liz scolded. "Mind your manners."

"Sorry," Carl said. "I don't see what it matters. There's more important stuff than being polite. Like going out and looking for Sophia."

"Maybe so," Liz agreed. "But we've got the adults out doing that. They'd all just worry if you were out there,too. Look at how much everyone's worried about Sophia."

"I'm worried, too," Carl whispered.

"Well, when they bring her back here, you wouldn't want to miss her, would you? Best to stay put. They don't even let me go out with them." She nudged him in the arm. "So we're even."

"You're too famous to go out. That's what Shane says." After realizing what he'd said, he bit his lip. "Oops. Not in a bad way, I mean."

"Ah, cat's out of the bag, huh?" Liz laughed. "Don't worry, Shane already told me that." A call broke up their conversation.

" _Walker_!" Andrea screeched. Everyone stood and glanced to where Andrea was pointing her rifle.

"Hey, hey, hey," Rick's voice came. He and Shane were running from the woods on the other side of the farm. "Don't shoot, Andrea. You know what Hershel said. We'll take care of it!"

"It's all right," Liz said to Carl. "It's just one. We'll be all right. Just stay here." She stood and shielded her eyes and tried to see how close the walker had gotten.

More calls rang out, but she couldn't make them out. A gunshot rang out, followed by a chorus of anguished cries.

"What happened?" Carl exclaimed.

"I don't know," Liz said, feeling antsy, herself. "You'd better go inside and find your mom." Liz ran to the RV and looked up at Andrea, who was standing with her jaw hanging agape. "What? What is it?"

"Daryl-" Andrea mumbled.

"What?" Liz shrieked. Before she knew what she was doing, she was sprinting toward the group. Her mind went blank and her stomach dropped. She wondered if she'd throw up as she ran. The one person in camp who didn't give a shit if she was famous. The one person who said something when Shane left a mark on her. Now Andrea had shot him in the head and he was likely bleeding out on the lawn.

"Get out of the way," Shane growled as he, Rick, and Glenn carried Daryl toward the house. Daryl was covered from head to toe in blood and dirt.

"What - what happened? Daryl, oh," Liz exclaimed. "Is he dead?"

"I ain' dead," Daryl groaned.

"She grazed him," Rick called out. "I don't know what else. He's a mess. Go get Hershel."

Liz tore back to the house as fast as her legs would carry her.

*****  
She was absolutely astounded at the amount of blood she washed from Daryl's face. Whether it was his or that of walkers, Liz had no idea. Daryl had been bandaged and given a heavy dose of painkillers, and he had been out for the rest of the afternoon. Liz hadn't been able to tear herself from the room, even when Hershel suggested Daryl would be out for hours and she'd be sitting there talking to herself. Carol had been with her for a few hours.

"I can't believe this happened while he was looking for my baby," she said softly.

"It doesn't matter what he was doing. This could have happened anytime. Maybe he'd have gone out hunting if Sophia was here. Don't blame yourself," Liz replied.

"He's a good man," Carol sniffled. She wiped a tear away. "Sophia's own daddy wouldn't have gone out looking for her. I promise you that."

Liz frowned. "I'm sorry, Carol."

"No, no," Carol said, waving her hand. "No pity party. I just hope he'll be all right. We can't lose him. He's one of the good ones." After a moment, Carol stiffened and cleared her throat, realizing what she'd said. "Not that-"

"I know," Liz jumped in. She tapped her lip. "Remember that? I didn't trip and fall into the car door. It was my beloved brother." She sighed. "I guess that's why I'm here now." She dipped the wash rag into the bowl of water, wrung it out, and ran it down Daryl's neck. The grime melted away and she laughed softly. "I don't even know if he'd want me to be here." She rinsed out the rag and wiped off the rest of his next. "God, what happened to him out there?"

Carol frowned. "Let me know if he wakes up."

" _When he wakes up_ ," Liz quickly corrected her. She brushed hair back from his face. "You're right - he's a good one. You don't meet real _good_ people anymore. They all want something, or want you for the wrong reasons."

"Not Daryl," Carol said before closing the door behind her.

"Not Daryl," Liz repeated to herself.

****

After a few hours, Daryl opened an eye. He shifted in bed and was immediately reminded of what happened. Sighing, he heaved himself up onto the pillow. He squinted in confusion when he saw Liz sleeping in a chair next to the bed. "Hey," he grumbled. " _Hey_."

Liz jumped awake. "Oh, finally." She moved and sat on the edge of the bed. "Sorry." She rubbed her eyes. "What happened out there? Someone shot you? And then Andrea shot you? Sophia's doll? Tell me. You don't have any bites, by the way. You've been feverish, though, but Hershel thinks it's your side." She ran a damp wash rag over his forehead, but he slapped her hand away.

"I know that." Daryl scowled. "Andrea shot me. Horse threw me. No Sophia." He closed his eyes and groaned.

"I'll get Hershel." Liz stared for the door.

"Don't," Daryl cut in. "Leave me alone."

Liz stared down at him in confusion. "Then I'll bring you something to eat. Dinner just wrapped up."

"No," Daryl growled. "Ain't hungry."

"What happened?" Liz insisted. She sat back down on the bed and touched his bandaged side. "We're all so worried."

" _Don't,_ I said," he snapped, swatting her hand away. "Horse threw me down a ravine. Arrow went through me when I fell. Found Sophia's doll, but not Sophia. Now get out." He rolled away from her.

Liz frowned and lingered for a moment. "Just thought you should know Carol has been in here for most of the evening, too. She's real grateful you've been out looking for her daughter." She chewed at her lip for a second before continuing. "Just because we haven't found her doesn't mean you're a failure." When he didn't reply, she frowned. "I'm glad you're alive," Liz said softly before leaving him alone.

*****

The next afternoon the women were gather in the kitchen, making dinner for Hershel and his family. It'd been an excruciatingly hot day and everyone from the search group was famished.

"No, you really think?" Lori giggled. "I wouldn't be able to even look at him. God."

Andrea joined in the giggling. "I'd be all over it. Sideways, backwards, upside down. It's the end of the world. What's the difference?"

"You better not let my dad hear this," Maggie giggled.

"Oh, you're saying if your celebrity exception wandered in here, you wouldn't try to hook up with him? We're the same age, girl. You aren't hiding any secrets from me," Lizzy laughed. "Who is it? Johnny Depp? Chris Hemsworth?"

"None of them! They're all probably crawlin' with STD's!" Maggie exclaimed.

"Ahemmph," a man's voice came from the door.

The women erupted into full blown laughter as Hershel grimaced and headed outside.

"I told you," Maggie exclaimed.

"And that's so unfair," Lizzy protested. "Not all celebrities have STD's."

Lori gasped, then laughed again. "I completely forgot. You're still Shane's little sister to us."

Carol smiled shyly from where she was chopping carrots and tried not to laugh. She still acted starstruck around Liz, much to her dismay.

"I wanted to ask Hershel something. I'll be right back," Liz said. She wiped off her hands and headed out onto the front porch. "Hey, Hershel."

Hershel nodded once. "Elizabeth, isn't it?"

"Liz, Lizzy, yeah. Sorta works out since you already have a Beth." Liz sat down on the steps and stretched out her legs. "I wanted to say thank you."

"Rick's already taken care of the formalities," Hershel said curtly. He pursed his lips and stared out toward their camp with a look of disdain on his face.

"I'm sure he has. Rick's a great guy," Liz replied. "I haven't thanked you, though, and that's not right. You didn't have to take us in. We really appreciate it. Truly. It's just - out there? I can't even explain what it's like. You've saved us."

"Rick put you up to this?" Hershel asked skeptically.

"No, I, why would he? It's proper manners to thank your host, and even more for the person who saved all of us. We'd love to help out with whatever chores you have - anything." Liz nodded to emphasize her point.

Hershel was hardly receptive, and sighed loudly at the offer.

"I also wanted to apologize for something," she continued anyway. "I know my brother's been, well, frankly, a horrible guest. I'm sorry. He's always been a tough nut. He's not himself after this whole thing. I'm sorry. We aren't all like him, really. The rest of us are so grateful."

Hershel nodded. "Thank you, Elizabeth."

As if right on cue, Shane stormed around the corner. His brows were furrowed; he'd clearly heard the last bit. "Liz. Lemme talk to you a minute."

Hershel set a scowl on his face and crossed his arms over his chest. "Welcome back, Shane," he said coldly. When Shane ignored the old man, Hershel shook his head.

"I'll see you at dinner. I hope you'll like it!" Liz said to Hershel before Shane grabbed her arm and pulled her out into the yard.

"You trying to give him another reason to dislike me? I'm trying to keep our people alive AND balance the stupid ideals of an old man who ain't seen any of the shit we have?" Shane huffed and scratched the back of his head with his pistol. "I don't know what to do with you."

"I'm trying to make it easier for all of us, Shane."

"Is that it?" Shane laughed. "Little Miss Hot Shot decided to get off of her ass and do something worthwhile? Well, guess what? Hershel's got a barn full of walkers not a hundred yards from where we all sleep. You gonna keep kissing his ass?"

"He WHAT?" Liz shook her head. "That can't be."

"It is, and you would have known that if you'd stay in the tent and do what I tell you. I never told you to leave and take up with them." Shane scowled.

"Shut up, Shane," Liz snapped. "I'm your sister, not your child."

"Shut up, Shane? Shut up, Shane." Shane's lip curled. "That's the thanks I get in this group. I can take it from the other nobodies we're stuck with, but not from my own blood."

"You aren't the king of us, Shane. Why don't you mind your own business? Work things out with Rick. Leave Lori alone. All the problems we have are your fault! We could deal with whatever's in the barn if Hershel actually liked us."

"Bitch!" Shane pistol whipped Lizzy and she dropped to the ground.

From the front porch, Hershel shook his head and went inside to send someone to retrieve the girl. "I knew I never liked that man," he mumbled to himself.

"My God, what happened?" Carol blurted the second Liz sat down at the table.

Liz frowned. She'd tried to arrange her hair so that it covered the welt and gash on her head. She self-consciously touched the gash and struggled for words. She still hadn't come up with an excuse.

"We had a little accident," Maggie jumped in. "No walkers involved, no worries." She smiled at Liz. "Us girls got this one covered." She'd helped Hershel bring Liz back into the house and had heard the truth.

Rick raised an eyebrow and exchanged glances with Lori. Andrea cleared her throat, and Patricia stared at her plate. Daryl, however, still mending from his own head wound, looked around the table. "Where's Shane?"

"I saw him leave before dinner and he hasn't come back," Beth said quietly.

"Probably out keeping watch," Glenn suggested awkwardly.

Liz stared at her plate and pushed her food around with her fork for the rest of the meal.

After dinner, Liz stormed toward the edge of the farm. She kicked at the weeds and fell to her knees, her face in her hands. Shame washed over her, though she knew better. _You can't pick your blood_ , she thought angrily. She pounded her hands into the ground and cried out in frustration. Not only would the group see her as lazy and worthless because of her career; now they'd see her as a victim and Shane's personal punching bag. Any respect she'd earned was surely lost now.

"Liz?"

The girl spun round, her gun in her hand before she realized what she was doing.

"Whoa," Daryl said, raising his hands and continuing toward her. "Jus' me. What're you doing out here? Too close to dark. Ain' safe." He scowled. "You know better'n to be out here alone."

"Sorry," she breathed, stuffing the gun back into her waistband. Her cheeks were hot in embarrasment. "I just needed a minute." She sat back and crossed her legs there in the dirt. "How's it we only find each other at our worst?" She cringed. Her head was still throbbing.

"How's it you're always at your worst?" He sat down next to her and laid the crossbow between them. "I think we all know that answer." He sucked at a piece of grass, then finally looked at her. A look of anger flashed across his face. "That's an ugly cut. That bastard brother of yours show up yet?"

Liz sighed and shook her head. "It's not fair. Carol, Andrea, Maggie- he doesn't give a shit what any of them do. I can't do anything right. If I help out, I'm stupid, if I try to stay out of the way, I'm being lazy." She suddenly stopped talking and bit the inside of her cheek. "Ya'll probably think so, too, huh?" She touched the welt on her forehead subconsciously.

"Why'd we think that? You do your share of work." He stared at her with a blank look on his face. "S'all that matters."

"Shane never liked that I was a singer. Said I should do something worthwhile." She chewed at the inside of her lip. "It doesn't matter now, that's for sure. He makes sure to remind me every day that I can't sing my way through the walkers." She rolled her eyes. "As if I don't know that."

"First day at camp, thought that was you," Daryl nodded. "Didn' know what to say. Pry ain' easy, everyone knowin' your face and thinkin' they know you. That's why I didn' say nothin'. Wanted to, though."

"Hmm?" Liz chimed.

"I recognized you the moment I saw you." Daryl looked down. "Even with the hat. I'd know that pretty smile anywhere. "

Liz smiled and blushed. "Thank you." She brushed her hair back over her forehead gingerly.

"Don't thank me for nothin'," Daryl replied. He frowned. "Stay away from him."

"I don't go looking for trouble," Liz replied earnestly. "I was just talking to Hershel." She threw her hands in the air. "This has turned him into - I, I don't know." She fell backward onto her back and stared up at the stars. "Everything's all messed up."

"You jus' now figurin' that out?" Daryl exclaimed. "Ain' your fault," he continued. "We aren' responsible for what our brothers do. You remember Merle. I saw how others looked at me - I dunno. Pity? I don' need that. I know I ain' my brother. Same goes for you. They know you ain' Shane. Thank God for that," he added, almost under his breath.

"Oh?" Liz fished.

Daryl cleared his throat. "Lori an' Rick got their problems, Carol's messed up over Sophia," he trailed off for a moment before continuing. "Andrea's a bitch. Got to be some sane woman 'round here."

"Ha," Lizzy replied. "Or I'm 'the woman with the crazy brother who's going to get us all killed.' That's pry more like it." She propped herself up on her elbows and looked up at Daryl. "Really, why you always showing up when I'm hoping someone will show up?"

"You wan' me to leave?"

"No," Lizzy answered quickly. "I don't. I also don't want Shane putting a target on your back because you're spending too much time tracking me down."

"He's no more your boss than I am. Do what you want, girl." Daryl scanned the horizon for walkers before glancing down at her. "I'm jus' tellin' ya that we're gonna have a real problem if he puts another mark on you. I mean that, and I'll tell him myself. Kin or not, he's done touching you." He grabbed his bow and stalked away.

"Daryl," Lizzy called after him.

The man paused and looked back at her. "Yeah?"

Liz hesitated, suddenly unsure of what she'd wanted. "Thank you. Really," she recovered. "Thank you."

Daryl nodded, then hoisted the crossbow onto his shoulder and headed back to camp.


	3. Oh, Nurse

The Georgia sun was hot, even as fall dragged on. Liz marched past Shane, who was keeping guard over the walker-filled barn, and ignored him as best she could. She'd spent the morning cooking and chatting with Carol and Glenn, and now she was looking to stretch her legs by aimlessly wandering around.

"Hey," Shane called after her. "Get over here a minute."

Liz sneered in his direction. "Why?"

"Just come here." A note of remorse hung in his voice and it was enough for Liz to drop her fury and give him a chance. She sighed and looked down at her boots as she marched toward him.

"You get on well with Maggie and the other girl, yeah?" Shane jutted his chin out toward the house. "Old man seems to like you enough."

"Yeah," Liz agreed. "I get on well with them. You should try it. They're good people."

"Whatever," Shane said, shaking his head and waving his hand as if swatting away her comment. "I need you to get in their heads. Do a little recon for me. Figure out why they're keeping these walkers. Figure out why Rick's letting them. They ain't gonna suspect you. Get in there and report back tonight. You're my best weapon against these hicks."

"Hmm," Liz considered. "I don't think I'm going to get involved." Memories of their last few encounters flashed in her mind. "Rick has it handled. Just stand guard and let him talk some sense into Hershel. We had no idea they were even here. Another day isn't going to get anyone killed."

"When it does, I'll remind you who refused to help out the group." Shane scowled.

Liz sighed and stared at the man she used to see as her goofy big brother. "Quit being a jerk, Shane. Rick's the highest in command here. Fall in line." With that, she quickly turned to leave. Mild sibling annoyances had turned into a very real fear of physical violence, and that both frightened and hurt her.

"Man, get out of here." He waved his pistol at her retreating back.

"See you at dinner," Liz called over her shoulder as she walked back to camp. It was getting easier for her to accept that this outbreak had changed everyone; some for the better, some for the worse. She liked to think she was changing for the better, but she couldn't know for sure.

"Son of a BITCH," a growl caught her attention.

 _Daryl?_ Liz thought with a slight bit of panic. "Everything okay?" she called out, jogging to the tent.

Daryl swore and sat sat his knife down. "Yeah." He'd been confined to the farm one more day at both Hershel and Rick's urging. He'd moved back out to his tent the moment he was able to do so on his own. Hershel had begged him to stay in the house so he could look after Daryl's wounds for a not her day, but the man had refused. He didn't want to be at the farm at all. Sophia was still missing and he could cover a lot of ground in a day. Arguing that he hadn't been shot directly in the head hadn't been a strong enough reason to get him back out searching, and that had left him in a sour mood. Now he sat whittling a piece of timber. The knife had slepped and he nicked his thumb. Sucking the blood off, he looked up to see Liz's mop of dark hair poking into the tent as she peered in at him. "Yeah?"

"I was just walking by. How are you?" She unzipped the tent and stepped in.

Raising an eyebrow, Daryl shrugged. "Fine."

"I'm not making small talk," Liz scoffed. "You got shot twice. How's your bullet wound? How's your arrow hole? You know what I mean. You might be a big strong man, but an infection could take you down quick out here."

Daryl studied the girl. Beautiful, smart, a little unsure of herself. "What're you fussing over me for, anyhow? Hershel's been out. Rick's been out. I'm fine." He cringed slightly at his harshness. The one person in the camp who seemed to have a good head on her shoulders and he was already pushing her away.

Undeterred, Liz started toward him. "Well you should be used to it, then. Let me see." She knelt down and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Ain' even gonna buy me a drink first?" Daryl drawled. "How you gonna know what you're looking at, anyway?"

Liz giggled and drew her hands back. "Oh, geeze. Sorry. I took some EMT classes. There's a surprising number of mishaps and injuries during concerts. Lots of moving pieces and parts- I had everyone on my team learn some first aid. I had so much fun, I just kept taking classes when I could." She shrugged. "I figure some day I'll be a nurse, once the performing thing dries up." She paused and realized she'd completely forgotten about the outbreak. "Or, I wanted to, in the old world."

"Didn't expect that," Daryl replied. "Thought you'd travel with a private doctor or somethin'." He took off his shirt and lifted his arm so she could see the arrow wound. "Well feast your eyes on the camp's most recent injury."

Instead of examining the wound, Liz caught herself staring at the man's abs. She knew he had biceps the size of a professional athlete's, but she hadn't thought to wonder about the rest of him. "Looks great," she quickly recovered. She actually looked at the wound and was glad to see it lacked any sign of infection.

"It's fine. I should have gone out for Sophia today." Daryl scowled and heaved a sigh.

Instead of answering, Liz gingerly brushed aside his hair to look at his scalp. "Ouch," she said, grimacing at the bloody mess. She squinted, looking to see if the stitches had popped. They were in tact, just bleeding. "That's got to hurt."

"Didn' feel _good,_ " Daryl answered sarcastically. He buttoned his shirt back up as Liz bent over the top of his head.

"I'm going to clean this for you. No worth arguing," she quickly said as Daryl opened his mouth to protest. "I'm doing it." She reached into her cross-body bag and pulled out a bottle of water and a rag.

"You carry that aroun'?" Daryl asked in surprise.

"Gotta be prepared for everything, nowdays," Liz shrugged. She poured a little water on the rag, then bent over. "This will sting."

"Already does," Daryl replied as Liz brushed his hair back again.

Liz looked down at him and smacked him lightly in the shoulder. "For such a strong guy, you're acting like a baby." She grinned.

"You try getting shot in the head!" Daryl snapped.

"Oh, I'm kidding," Liz said, beginning to dab at his scalp. She concentrated on the work, being sure not to snag any of the stitches.

Daryl winced, then cleared his throat. "You were there when they brought me back to the house and when I came to. You stay the whole time?"

"Mmhmm," Liz answered as she continued to work around his head.

"Thanks." Daryl sat quietly, wincing as the rag touched his exposed flesh. " _Son of a bitch!"_

"I'm sorry," Liz said. "I'd rather have it hurt now and be clean than fester and get infected." She wiped the dried blood from his hair and rewetted the rag. A silence had settled between then, and they each struggled for words to break it.

"Why'd you stay?" Daryl asked. He immediately regretted Going there.

"Hmm?" Liz sat back, satisfied with her work. "Stayed?"

"At the house with me."

"I was worried. They couldn't tell you from a walker when you came back to camp. You looked bad. _Bad_ ," she emphasized. She wrung out the bloody rag and put it back in her bag. "I figured you might do the same for me, if you didn't have anything else to do."

"Thanks." Daryl scooped up his knife and reached for his project.

"What're you making? Too big to be arrows," Liz asked, reaching out and running a finger along the wood.

"Somethin' for you, actually. To say thanks, and 'cause ya need it." Daryl looked up, surprised the girl hadn't left yet.

"Me?" A smile spread across the girl's cheeks.

Daryl swore he felt his heart skip a beat, as corny as that dumb saying was. "Your pistol's too loud. Dumb bitch Andrea made me realize that. Surprised she didn't draw in walkers when she shot me. I'm makin' you a bow. Ain' nothin' fancy, but it'll get you out of a bind. I can make arrows. No worries 'bout ammunition runnin' out."

Liz touched her collarbone. "Oh, my God. Daryl." She squeezed his knee. "I've always been so jealous of your crossbow. You're so much more badass than everyone." She laughed when he suddenly smiled. "I didn't know you could make something like that! You really don't have to waste your time on me. Staying at the house, it was nothin-"

"Ain't got nothin' better to do," Daryl replied to stop her gushing.

"How's it work?" Liz asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

"It'll be ready this afternoon," Daryl said. "I'll show you how to use it then. I already made the arrows." He scowled. If he couldn't be out looking for Sophia, at least he could spend time with Liz, as hopeless as that dream was.

"Oh, I'm so excited. You're the best, seriously, the best," Liz exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She hopped up and threw back the tent flap. "Come find me this afternoon. I'll be waiting! I'll check your head again, too."

Daryl sat back and tried to process the exchange that had just happened. Liz Clark had burst into his tent, unbuttoned his shirt, cleaned his head wound, and called him a badass. Maybe the day was turning around, after all.


	4. Archer

Daryl shook his head. "Naw. Higher."

Liz hesitated before answering. "I can't."

"C'mon. Higher," Daryl's voice came from behind her.

Liz clicked her tongue and held the bow he'd made for her higher. "Are you sure? It'll go too high. Arrow's pointing way over the target now!" She and Daryl had set up a stack of hay bales to shoot at for her first archery lesson.

Carl was watching from the porch, pouting that Rick said he couldn't learn to shoot yet. Shane had stalked off to guard the barn full of walkers again, disgusted at his new duty as well as at the fact that his sister was spending her time with the redneck.

Daryl scoffed. "It ain' goin'ta miss. Listen. Arm at eye level. Bring the string to your nose."

"Are you sure it won't hit me in the face?" Liz asked apprehensively. "Can you shoot arrows backward? Oh, God. You're putting a lot of trust in me with this thing."

"It ain' goin' to hit you in the face!" Daryl groaned. "You goin'ta let me train you or not?"

"Ooh, training," Liz repeated. "So serious. I feel like a real archer now. Okay, okay, let's be serious. I want to learn." She glanced back at him and flashed a smile.

Daryl's breath caught in his chest and insecurity washed over him. He quickly pushed it away. _This wasn't the old world and it didn't matter who she was._ So maybe she'd been on all the late night shows. So maybe he'd wondered what she was REALLY like, as he sat at home on the couch with a beer in his hand and his eyes glues to the TV screen. All that mattered was whether or not she could defend herself against the walkers. No one else seemed to care too much about making her independent; Rick had bigger things to worry about and Shane wasn't interested in making anyone need him less.

He squeezed his eyes shut, then exhaled and stepped behind Liz. "Here. First of all, turn to the side," he muttered, lightly touching her hips and swiveling her around. He covered her hand on the bow with his. "Higher," he continued as he corrected her position. Finally, he reached around and touched the underside of her forearm. "Keep this level."

"This feels," Liz paused and struggled for a word. "Different." Her heart hammered in her chest at how close Daryl was to her. When they'd first met at the camp off the highway, he'd driven her crazy with his back woods ways. She'd hated his motorcycle, his accent, and especially his brother. But now she was surprised to find that of everyone in camp, Daryl was the only one she seemed to click with besides the Grimeses. He didn't seem to have any  
ulterior motives besides watching out for the group, and that was a relief to her, especially considering Shane had gone off the deep end with lust for power.

Daryl cleared his throat nervously but didn't release her arms. "Pull back. I'll tell you when to stop." He corrected Liz's stance slightly as she pulled the string back. "Too hard for you to draw back?" he asked when he saw her arm tremble.

"No," Liz said, slowly guiding the string back to the starting position. "Just, ah," she hesitated and giggled. "Nervous."

Daryl released her and stepped back. "Everyone in the country knows who you are. You tour around doin' shows and you're always on the TV and this is makin' you nervous?"

Liz giggled and shrugged. Her cheeks were hot, and she knew it wasn't from the sun. "Different strokes for different folks. Show me again. You're right. All there is to be nervous about is the walkers."

Daryl stood behind her again, positioning her arms correctly. "Higher; there. Perfect. Eye level, see? Ain' gonna do any good to shoot a walker in the belly. You'll have good range. You'll be able'ta shoot them before they get anywhere close." He caught the scent of her hair and paused, the thought popping into his head once again. Liz Clark was mere inches away from him. Visions of the tattoo on the small of her back flashed through his head. He looked down and saw black ink from her thigh tattoo peeking out from under her shorts. The center fold photos of her he'd committed to memory didn't mean anything now, yet he couldn't push them out of his head. _She's ain't a pin-up anymore; just someone who needs you to teach her to protect herself_ , he reminded himself.

"Good," Liz replied. She leaned back slightly and felt his body against hers. It was solid - like leaning against a warm brick wall. "Oh," she whispered. "Sorry." She straightened up and held the bow higher. "Like this, right?"

Daryl released her and backed away. "Yup. Draw back the string to your nose, and bring your fingers back along your jaw to release."

Liz scrunched up her face and lowered the bow. "Huh?"

"Here. Bring it back up." Daryl stepped back in.

Liz raised the bow. "You're a great teacher," she commented as he tapped her elbow. "I know," she said before he could, "higher."

Daryl covered her right hand with his. "Pretend you have the arrow. You draw back until it touches your nose." He pretended to draw the string back to her face. "It's at the tip of your nose. Aim. When you want to loose your arrow, brush your fingers along your jaw and you'll shoot." He dragged his fingers gently along her skin.

Liz shivered and debated feigning further confusion. "Okay." She pulled the string back to her nose, and tried it herself. The bow _twanged_ as the string released as she brushed along her own jaw. "Oh, you're right. Didn't touch me." She laughed, delighted at her work. "It's so quiet. I can't believe you made this for me!"

Daryl smirked proudly. "Now grab an arrow," he instructed.

The girl did as she was told and glanced to him for reassurance. He nodded at her arm position, but corrected her stance slightly by touching her hip. "Turn- perfect." His hand lingered there as he checked over her shoulder. "Good. Now think through the motion."

Liz fumbled with the arrow. _Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum_. Her ears were filled with the sound of her heart pounding. As serious as she was about learning to shoot, her mind was completely absorbed with other thoughts. Daryl's hand was lingering on her hip as he waited for her to shoot.

"Here," Daryl said, placing her fingers on the string and guiding her hand with his. "We'll do it together. Draw back. Good. Then brush- now." The arrow launched forward and drilled into the center of the makeshift target.

Liz squealed. "Oh, perfect!" She turned and beamed. "I did it."

Daryl grinned and backed up. "Now do it yourself. I ain' gonna be able to do this when walkers come stumblin' 'round."

Determined to make him proud, Liz steadied the bow, making sure it was high enough, then nocked her arrow and let it loose. It stuck in the hay higher and to the left, but still in the hay. She groaned, but Daryl nodded his approval.

"I thought I did it right," she grumbled.

"You are. Takes practice. Do another." He handed her an arrow and stood back. "Eyes on the target. Think through what you're doing."

Liz cleared her throat. "Thinking of something, that's for sure," she mumbled under her breath. She glanced at Daryl and made a face. "This is going to take me forever."

"It ain't," Daryl said, shaking his head. "You'll get it. Besides, I've got all night. Go again." He watched as she drew the arrow back and let it fly. When it landed off to the left again and Liz threw her hands up, he smiled, hopeful that maybe it would take her all night to master it.


	5. Sophia

Laundry day had left Liz with a kink in her neck. "Carol - you look like a yogi. Come do yoga with me."

"Oh," Carol said, shaking out a shirt and shaking her head. "No, no, no. I'm not flexible at all. It'd just be a humiliation."

"I'm too nauseous to bend over all over the place," Lori said. "Sorry." She'd recently announced her pregnancy, and was in the throes of morning sickness of the first trimester.

Liz looked at Andrea hopefully. The blonde seemed to dislike her, but Liz was desperate for some girl talk and stretching.

"No," Andrea said dryly. "Don't even look at me like that. I don't yoga."

Liz groaned. "Fine, I'll do it by myself."

Glenn, who'd been reading near the laundry area, chimed in. "Beth has been going on and on to Maggie about how cool it is that you're here, I guess." He looked up. "You could spend some time with her."

"Really? She's so quiet. I can't see her going on and on about anything." Liz smiled. "Well great. I'll go find her."

Ten minutes later, Liz and Beth were in front of the porch, stretching themselves out and chatting. Beth was less starstruck than Liz had expected, and that relieved her. Dealing with people who saw her as anything but a regular person tripped her up.

"So you and Jimmy, huh?" Liz asked as she pressed her hands into the dirt and stretched out her back in a downward dog. "Ugh, that's good." She swayed back and forth and enjoyed the burn in her muscles.

Beth looked at her body and copied her. "I guess," she replied dully.

"You guess?" Liz asked, peeking out from between her arms. "Why 'you guess'?"

"We dated for three months. This happened. Now it's like we're married." Beth rolled her eyes. "Guys my age are so immature. I know we can't send him away, but I wish I didn't have to be responsible for him." She lost her balance for a minute, then flopped to the ground. "Ugh."

Switching to a cobra pose, Liz made a face at Beth. "Try this pose. I can see how that'd be awkward. Believe it or not, some of my friends got married after knowing their boyfriends for about three months." She stuck her tongue out. "Yuck."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Beth asked. "Or did you, before this? The websites were always saying you were seeing this guy or that guy."

"Nope," Liz answered, popping the 'p.' "Just little old me. I had a lot of friends who kept me busy. I'm too young to be tied down, especially to a movie star. They're the worst." She laughed. "If I have time, you've got plenty of time."

"Not like there are a lot of options," Beth grumbled. "I thought Glenn was cute, but then Maggie decided she liked him, first."

Pushing up into a plank, Liz glanced at the girl again. "How old are you? Carl's 12." She wiggled her eyebrows.

Beth wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Yuck. I'm 16. I thought yoga was supposed to be relaxing. Now I feel gross!"

"Sorry!" Liz exclaimed. "Carl's the only kid I've been around." She rolled herself up into a lunge and looked over to see Beth keeping up. "You're pretty good at this."

Beth smiled. "Really? Like, as good as the L.A. people?" Her cheeks slowly turned pink. "It's seriously really cool that you're here. We love your songs, me and Maggie. Dad doesn't like _anything_ on the radio. But I can't believe you're so normal!"

"What else would I be?" Liz asked, losing her balance and toppling over.

Beth giggled. "I've only done this one, and I'm still doing it." She switched legs.

"Yeah, that's 'cause you've got bird legs! Eat something, girl," Liz replied with a grin. She pulled herself back up and slid into the splits.

"That's yoga?" Beth asked, disgusted. "I can't do that." She struggled, then gave up and pushed back into another lunge. "Oh!" she exclaimed, quickly collapsing onto her hands and knees. "There are people watching."

"Hmm?" Liz mumbled, twisting over her shoulder. She spotted Daryl and Glenn not far away, leaning against a fence post talking. "They're just talking," she said. "Ain't like they're walkers!" She twisted to the other side. "You can do this one, come on."

"I can't," Beth hissed. "I'm embarrassed. I'm not very good and I don't want them to see."

Liz sat back in a cross-legged position. "Okay, okay. You can do this, right?"

Beth crossed her legs and stared at the ground.

"What's wrong? You don't like Glenn now?"

"No, not him," Beth said quietly.

"Daryl?" Liz laughed. "He looks mean, but he's a really good guy. Be glad you didn't meet his brother. He actually _was_ mean."

"Shh, don't let him hear!" Beth squeaked. "If he's looking over here, I want him to think I'm good at this." She stuck out her chest and twisted. "Everyone tells me I look older than seventeen."

"Ohh," Liz sang out, trying her hardest not to laugh. "I see what you're getting at." She winked. "Going for the older men, huh?"

"He's really helpful, and his bow is pretty cool." Beth twisted the other way, taking care to glance in the men's direction. "How'd you get him to make you one?" She thought better of her position and turned back into another downward dog. "Follow my lead, Liz. Don't leave me hanging. It'll be too obvious."

Liz laughed. She pushed into a downward dog to match Beth's. "Here I thought you were the quiet one. How devious, trying to lure in the poor men-folk with the world's skinniest legs. I don't know if I can condone a minor showing off her skinny ass to full grown men, though," she laughed.

"You're cool. You won't tell my dad, right?" Beth asked in a small voice.

"Of course not," Liz promised. She gently rolled her head from side to side. "By the way, this is the last time you're in charge of yoga. This is doing nothing for my neck."

"Might be because your ass has been in the air for the last five minutes," a voice came.

Liz looked up to see Glenn and Daryl's boots behind her. Beth quickly jumped to her feet and made up and unintelligible excuse about needing to go inside.

"You're a terrible yoga partner," Liz called after her. "Traitor. One hundred warrior poses tomorrow for you."

"S'her problem? Daryl asked.

Liz stood back up and stretched her arms upward. She debated telling the men about Beth's crush on Daryl, but decided against it. "Ah, nothing. Just a little nervous around me, I guess."

"I'm making a supply run," Glenn said. "Want anything?"

"You're going too?" Liz asked, cocking her head at Daryl.

"Naw, I'm going out for Sophia in a minute," he replied.

Liz nodded. "Be careful. And thanks Glenn, but I've got everything I _need_ ," Liz said, shrugging. " _Want_ , though? I've been wanting a piece of chocolate cake since this whole thing started." She felt her mouth start salivating. "Ugh, like, I'm lusting after cake."

Glenn laughed. "I don't think I'll find any in town. Sorry."

Liz feigned disappointment. "That was my one goal for coming home to Georgia - eat as many calories as I could. Food in California sucks. I'm not a salad girl. Even their junk food is healthy. Blech." Liz tipped her head back. "That's the cruelest part about this new world. No junk food."

"Seriously? You aren't worried about your figure?" Glenn asked, staring at her toned midsection.

Daryl raised an eyebrow at him. "You can't ask a woman that."

"Ha," Liz laughed. "Look at Shane. We're blessed with insanely great metabolisms. I eat what I want. I do yoga. No body issues here." She patted her thigh, which was curvy, yet firm. "Stick legs don't win men, no matter what the magazines say." She saw Daryl looking at her leg, and Liz couldn't help but wink. He immediately dropped his gaze and cleared his throat. His sheepishness caused her to laugh. "Or not."

"You're right," he mumbled, staring up at the sky. He hoisted his bow higher over his shoulder. "I've gotta go. I'll be back later. We'll practice with your bow again."

Enjoying his obvious awkwardness at her flirting, Liz tried on a seductive look and blinked slowly in his direction. "Can't wait."

Daryl hesitated as if to say something, but instead nodded and headed off.

"Wow, okay," Glenn said with a note of awkward hesitation. "Good to know." He shook his head at Liz. "That one's going to take some work. And are you sure Shane's going to like that?"

Liz made a face. "He's my brother, not my babysitter. What do you mean it'll take work?"

"I just don't want-" Glenn started. A commotion by the barn cut him off. The pair spun around to see what was going on. "Is that _Rick_?" Glenn exclaimed. " _He has a walker on a leash?!"_

Rick, Hershel, and Jimmy had walkers on makeshift leashes and were bringing them onto the property toward the barn. Shane was waving his pistol around and yelling, and it clearly wasn't going to end well.

"Oh, my god," Liz breathed, slapping her hand to her forehead in disbelief. She'd tried to avoid Shane as much as possible, but saw his friendship with Rick quickly deteriorating. This may be the final nail in the coffin, and that would be horrendous for the group.

"We've gotta go," Glenn said before sprinting toward the barn.

"Daryl!" Liz called, running in the direction he'd walked. "Daryl."

Upon hearing Liz frantically calling him, Daryl turned and sprinted back to camp. "What?" Daryl called, "What's wrong?"

Liz motioned for him. "The barn. Rick's got a walker on a pole. Shane's-"

A series of gunshots rang out, and without another word, the pair ran faster to reach the barn. "Stay back," Daryl said gruffly when they reached the scene.

"I can help-"

"No. I'm not kidding." Daryl gave her a stern look and rushed ahead.

"What's going on?" a voice came from behind her.

"Beth, come here, baby, come here," Liz cried, taking the girl under her arm. Beth's mother and brother were in the barn and she knew the girl wouldn't be the same after what was about to happen.

Shane was yelling and waving his pistol around. The words were exploding into the air and not sinking in as Liz watched the spectacle play out in slow motion. Rick and Hershel were trying desperately to control the walkers at the end of their poles. The sound and survivors showing up had agitated them. Liz blinked. It seemed surreal. She glanced over and saw Daryl and Glen holding their weapons at the ready. Maggie ran out and stood near her father. Suddenly, time sped back up and Liz cried out as Shane hammered at the lock until it broke off and the twenty walkers from inside began to spill out.

The men make quick work of the walkers; shooting them down immediately as they spilled out into the sunlight one by one. Blackened blood sprayed everywhere with each bullet and arrow. Hershel fell to his knees and watched in horror as the friends and family he thought he was saving were slaughtered. Finally the moment he'd been dreading came; what had once been an older woman stumbled from the barn, gnashing its teeth and glancing around at all of the possible

" _Mom_!" Beth screamed, trying to pull away from Liz.

"No, no, sweetie, that's not your mom," Liz panted, doing everything to keep the girl in her arms. "It's okay, it's okay. Look at me," she begged, trying to pull Beth's face to hers. Beth collapsed to the ground as sobs rocked her body. She reached out and whimpered. Liz knelt beside her and dragged the girl's body to hers. "Shh, it's okay. It's all right. Don't watch." She rubbed Beth's back and tried not to hyperventilate, herself. "It's okay, it's okay."

A horrible cry that belonged to a survivor snagged her attention. Carol was running to the barn, her arms outreached. "Baby girl," she cooed.

"No!" Daryl quickly caught her around the middle and pulled her to the ground.

Liz squeezed her eyes shut just before a bullet blew through Sophia's head. "Oh, God," she choked. _Sophia. W_ hen the last walker had fallen, Liz glanced back at her brother. Shane was standing with his rifle smoking and a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Mommy," Beth cried. "My mom."

Liz felt tears fall from her own eyes as Beth nestled her face into her neck. She held the girl close and buried her face in her hair, hoping this was the last of the horrors they'd have to endure.


	6. O Brother, Where Art Thou?

Shane rubbed his head and exhaled sharply. He scowled at his boots and pressed his knuckles into his eyes. No one had bothered to come to his tent after the episode with the walkers earlier in the day. He figured some of the group understood. No- he _knew_ they did - they were just too big of pussies to come pass along their congratulations for saving the day. Again.

When he heard footsteps outside his tent, Shane grinned. _Lori._ He sat up straighter.

"Hey," his sister's voice came. "You alone?"

Shane sighed in disappointment and sat back. "Yeah. Come in."

Liz entered the tent, careful to leave the flap open behind her in case she needed to get away in a hurry. "Hey." She knew everyone would think she was crazy for coming to talk to Shane. There wasn't a member of camp who hadn't warned her of his strange behavior, but something drove her to see for herself. _He's my brother. At least he was._

"Well, look who came to visit her big brother. I ain't seen you around much. Where you been sleepin', anyway? With the redneck?" Shane sneered. "I've seen how he-"

"In camp with whoever." Liz cut him off. "Andrea, Carol, mostly. Sometimes T-Dog and Glenn. It's nice to get to know everyone. You could join camp, you know. It's a great community we've got going on. We sing songs by the campfire. Literally." She grinned, hoping the humor would cut through Shane's new militant attitude.

"Goin' from five star hotels every night to sleeping in tents with strangers," Shane mocked. "Welcome back to Georgia, Little Sis. "

"There's no place like home," Liz said with a smile. "I was really looking forward to seeing you, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah," Shane admitted. He cleared his throat and looked up. "So what you want?" He cocked his head and stared at her intensely. "You here to be on my side again? Use your persuasiveness to get the group back on my side?" Hope lit up on his face.

"I was never on anyone's _side_." Liz hesitated. "Wasn't your call, Shane. I think you made a bad choice." She shifted her weight from foot to foot and nervously fidgeted with the knife on her belt. _Now we'll see what's happened to my brother._

"Wasn't my call? So, what, everything's Rick's call?" Shane snapped, standing and throwing his arms up. "I kept us alive. We were fine without Rick," Shane hissed."All of us. It was better."

"No," Liz said, shaking her head. "It wasn't better. He's like my second brother. Rick was at the house so much when we were kids- what happened? Don't you remember all those good times we all had together? Rick's a great guy. You know that."

"What happened?" Shane snarled. "Rick died. He was dead. He left a wife and child I had to take care of them. Where would they be without me, Liz?" Suddenly he was in her face, hovering over her menacingly. "They'd be dead," he whispered.

"Maybe," Liz admitted softly. "But it's not your burden anymore. You don't have to worry yourself over them. You can think of the good of the group," she fed him.

"Not my," Shane trailed off in disbelief. In an instant his face burned red and he flew off the handle as if someone had flipped a switch. " _I'll tell you what's not my burden! Dealing with this old man's delusions! Waking up to find we're sleeping twenty yards from a barn of walkers! Running off after a dead kid and wasting everyone's time!"_

"Lower your voice," Liz said calmly, hoping her trembling knees didn't betray her lack of confidence. "I just want to talk to you. We used to-"

"I don't care. That was a different world," Shane growled. His hand flew to his forehead. "I'm not going to let this happen. Lori, Carl, you. You're all helpless." He let the words sink in before continuing. Suddenly his voice was soft and his eyes pleaded with her. "You can't make it on your own, and Rick's got it all wrong." He reached out to touch Liz's face. "You're my baby sister. You ain't built for this kind of world. You sing songs and make people happy. How are you going to survive this world?" He stroked her cheek and grew quiet. "When did you get so pretty?" he whispered. "You were just a little kid," he trailed off as he continued to touch her face.

Liz felt goosebumps raise on the back of her neck. She backed away slowly. "Shane-"

"I've gotta keep you safe. What did I promise Mom and Dad? No one else here's going to look out for you like your own blood." Shane reached out again. "I've seen you in all the magazines. I've seen how they all look at you," he hissed, jerking his head toward camp. "Makes me sick."

Ducking out of the way of his reach, Liz held up a hand to stop him. "Shane, that-"

"And Lori, Carl? The others who aren't leering after you? Ain't no one else who can keep everyone alive. Rick's decisions are gettin' people killed. Got Carl shot." Shane's lip curled. "My remaining family ain't getting killed because of Rick." He lunged and grabbed Liz by the shoulders, suddenly smiling. He shook her slightly. "You'll start staying here with me again. We can get back to a good place." He nodded frantically. After a moment, he paused. "But not  
tonight. You've got to go. Rick and Glenn ran out after the old man- Lori'll be by tonight. I'm sorry, Liz, we'll be together after tonight." He leaned in and kissed her on the jaw near her ear. "We'll do this right."

Liz wriggled out of Shane's grasp. Her skin was crawling and nausea was washing over her. "She's not coming, Shane. Leave her alone. She'll be worrying about when her husband is coming back."

"STOP BRINGING HIM UP," Shane exploded, advancing on her and swinging wildly.

Somehow managing to evade the blows, Liz retreated, stumbling backward out of the tent blindly. She fumbled for her pistol, but he was on her before she could pull it from her belt.

"HOW MANY TIMES DOES HE RUN OFF, YET EVERYONE LOOKS UP TO HIM? I'VE NEVER ABANADONED THE GROUP," Shane roared in her face. His hands were crushing her wrists in a deathgrip.

"He does everything for the good of the group," Liz retorted, pulling away as best as she could. Everyone had been right; Shane was truly out of his mind. _How long have I ignored this? Does the group think I'm losing it, too?_ There may have been remnants of her brother left, but the new Shane was quickly extinguishing all traits of the old one she used to know. _I's now or never._ With a mighty jerk, she broke free of his grasp and turned to run.

"GET BACK HERE." Liz didn't get far before Shane caught up and knocked her to the ground. "You ain' right in the head," he said as she struggled against him. He flipped her over onto her back and pinned her legs to the ground with his. "It's all right. You'll stay with me." He stroked her face and brushed hair off of her forehead as she swung her head from side to side, trying desperately to evade his advances. "I'll take care of you. Like when we were kids, hmm?" He glanced at her lips. "God, you're pretty, Lizzy."

"GET OFF!" Liz shrieked as loudly as she could. There was no amount of force she could produce that would get Shane off of her, but she thrashed about anyway. Anything to keep Shane at bay while someone came to her aid. It wasn't that late - no one could be asleep in camp yet. She cried out again as she tried to kick herself out of his hold.

The struggle didn't phase Shane. "You don't get it," he insisted. "I'll take care of you. Of us. Lori, too. Yeah?"

Squeezing her eyes shut and mustering all the strength she could, Liz let a bood curling scream escape her throat.

"Let her up," a calm voice came.

"Daryl," Liz panted, knowing the voice before she saw him approaching with crossbow raised. "Help me."

Shane's body stiffened, yet he didn't tear his gaze from his sister's face. "This doesn't concern you."

"Let her up NOW," Daryl said again. He spun and let an arrow fly from his bow. One walker fell dead. "Ya'll being too loud," Daryl said, turning back to Shane. "Why don't you let her up so she'll quit screaming and bringing these things in? S'my turn on patrol and I ain't dealin' with this shit."

"This don't concern you," Shane replied. "Get back to patrolling. You're right. Dumb bitch is being too loud. She's mine- my concern."

"GET OFF!" Liz shrieked again.

"She don't belong to nobody," Daryl said, raising his crossbow and tensing his finger on the trigger. He stepped closer and kept his sights set. "Let her go."

"You ain't gonna shoot me." Shane hissed, swiftly pulling his own blade and holding it at Liz's throat. "Are ya? Go on your way. This ain't your business."

The sheer horror on Liz's face enraged Daryl. In a swift move, he delivered a hard kick to Shane's jaw, knocking him off balance. Liz quickly rolled out from under him and crawled toward Daryl, who quickly stepped over her protectively.

"Son of a bitch," Shane snarled. He spat bright red blood on the ground. "This how it is, then?"

"This is how it's gonna be," Daryl said, again looking through the sight of the bow. "She's with me. You can respect that, can't ya?" When Shane made no moves, Daryl pulled Liz to her feet and scanned her quickly. _No visible bruises this time. Worse, though. All gonna be mental._

Shane got to his feet slowly and chuckled as he wiped blood from his lip. The laughter grew louder. Liz cringed. It was an ugly, unfamiliar sound to her.

"Then you two have a good night." Shane bowed his head and stepped back into his tent. Even as the tent flap swayed shut, the laughter carried out into the clearing.

"Let's go," Daryl muttered, turning back for his tent.

Liz took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "I'm over in camp, staying with-"

"Me." Daryl slung his bow over his shoulder. "I ain't takin' any chances. I'll stand watch." When Liz opened her mouth to protest, he stopped and stood before her. "You think I donn't understand what was going on?"

At last, the depravity of the situation hit her and Liz hung her head as her body shuddered. Tremors shook her body.

"I ain't going to touch you," Daryl said softly. "I'm gonna keep you safe. Let's get your stuff."


	7. Aftermath

Daryl glanced up from the arrows he was whittling by lantern light and stole a look across his tent at Liz. The girl was sitting with her knees tucked under her chin. Her long arms were wrapped around her legs tightly as she stared straight ahead; amber eyes hardly blinking. Daryl knew she wasn't looking at or seeing anything.

 _One, two. Relax. One, two. Exhale._ Liz tried to remember what a Hollywood therapist had once told her about breathing through stressful times. Instead of smooth inhales, her breaths were ragged and uneven. Betrayal, loss, violation, and hatred swirled around her head in a dizzying tour of emotions. Shuddering, Liz dropped her forehead so it rested on her knees.

 _I's got to be damn near three o'clock,_ thought. Yet here the woman sat like a statue; unmoving, unspeaking, likely unfeeling after fighting off what would have been a sexual assault by her own brother. Daryl's lip curled at the thought.

Liz wanted to tell Daryl to go to sleep. The words had been at the tip of her tongue for probably an hour, but Liz couldn't bring herself to speak. Wearing the silence felt nice for a change. It made her feel safe. Being alone was a daunting thought, but talking it out was equally as terrorizing. Daryl's calm presence was perfect.

"My mom died when I was a kid," Daryl said suddenly.

Liz looked up. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "That must have been hard."

"Naw," Daryl continued. "She liked to smoke in bed. Lit the entire house up with her." He grunted and shucked another layer of wood off of the branch he was working on. "An uncle looked after Merle and me after that. 'We're family,' he'd always tell us before doing something..." he trailed off. He caught Liz's gaze and sat his knife down. "Being that it's family only makes it worse." He pulled off his shirt and turned slightly so the girl could see the long scars that covered his back. "Blood don't always mean family. Sometimes family's the ones you pick."

Liz rested her chin on her knees again. "I'm sorry."

"Quit being sorry for everything," Daryl mumbled. The end of the world had brought some interesting twists and turns, but he never thought this sort of shit would enter his life again. "Why don't you go to sleep?"

"Can't," Liz replied, watching his hands work.

"I know," Daryl said softly. He sat down the arrow and knife. "Then at least lie down." He tossed Liz his poncho.

Breaking her stillness by stretching, Liz nodded and yawned. "You're probably right." She glanced down at the sleeping bag she was sitting on. "Nothing will happen. It's over and he ain't ever going to bring it up or try it again." She nodded, suddenly defiant. "You don't have to stand guard all night. That sorry son of a bitch won't show his face in here."

Daryl stared at her quizzically. "S'all right. I'll stay up. It'll make you feel better."

Liz shook her head. "It'd feel better to just have someone close."

"I ain't-"

"No," Liz interrupted. "Just sleep here." She unzipped and spread out the sleeping bag and lie down on one side. "I trust you. You need to sleep. I'm not looking for someone to spoon. Just - someone real here to keep me out of my head." She pulled Daryl's poncho up to her shoulders and nestled in to sleep. Exhaustion hit her out of the blue, yet she kept an eye open to watch Daryl. "Please," she said softly. Her voice surprised her as it spilled from her mouth. She sounded young and timid, but also a weary old woman at the same time.

Grunting in agreement, Daryl reached out and turned off the lantern. As darkness fell, Liz heard him pull off his shirt and crack his neck before dropping onto the bag next to her. "Keep your weapons close," he murmured. "Mine are."

"Mmmhmm," Liz replied.

 _Another day in paradise_. Daryl stretched and groaned. A heaviness at his hip caught his attention. As he blinked his eyes open and glanced down, the weight of the previous night settled upon him. Liz was in his tent, sprawled out and dead asleep; he legs somehow entwined with his and her long freckled arms slumped across his body. The fact they'd fallen asleep with a foot between them apparently didn't matter.

 _Shit_. Daryl tried to slide out from under her, but when Liz started to stir, he lay still. Shane had completely lost his damn mind when he tried to rape her, and that was a truth the poor girl didn't need to wake up and worry about. For now he'd let her dream and continue to drool on his sleeping bag.

Studying the girl for a moment, Daryl allowed himself to grin. He reached for a book and enjoyed the moment, for when she woke, it would be a different story.

*****

Rick nodded to Glenn and Maggie as he crossed the yard. The day was young but his mind was already swimming with choices. They'd brought back and injured outsider after he and Glenn had found Hershel at the bar in town following the scene with the barn walkers. Now came the question of what to do with the kid. When Rick reached Daryl's tent, he cleared his throat and poked his head in. "Hey, Daryl, can I ask you-" Rick paused in shock when he realized Liz was there. "Oh," he nodded. "My apologies."

Liz opened an eye and quickly surveyed the scene. "Oh, geeze," she mumbled, drawing her arms and legs back to herself. "Sorry. Said I wouldn't do that." She blinked a few times and ran a hand through the wild snarls her hair had formed.

"S'all right," Daryl replied softly. He sat up and stretched. "Hey, Rick."

"Can- can I talk to you for a minute? I need your help with something."

As Daryl grunted a yes and turned to grab a shirt, Rick gave Liz a brief smile. She blushed and shook her head at him, mouthing, "IT'S NOT LIKE THAT."

Rick tilted his head and raised his eyebrows in return. "I'll be outside," he drawled before stepping out.

"Leave your stuff here," Daryl said as he reached for his crossbow. "I don't trust anyone else here to deal with Shane." He grabbed a knife and slid it into his belt. "Rick could, but he's got a family to worry about. I'll watch out for ya."

Liz started to protest, but Daryl scowled. "You want to put the others in danger? You want Shane crashing into Carol's tent looking for you? How about Andrea's? He's dangerous. Lost his damn mind."

Liz frowned, then propped herself up on her elbow. "You aren't worried what they'll think about me staying with you? I know you-"

"Don't give a shit," Daryl interrupted. He stepped out of the tent then called back to her, "We'll practice with your bow later, too."

Pushing aside her intentions to rise, Liz curled back up under the poncho. If she didn't get up and face the day, she wouldn't have to face what happened last night. The scent of leather and a manly musk lulled her back to sleep.


	8. Endings and Beginnings

_Flowers. No, baking, maybe? Laundry? The hell?_ Daryl opened an eye to investigate the sweet aroma filling the air. It had been months since the outbreak and the air had only smelled like sweat, blood, or rotting flesh since.

In the corner of the tent, Liz was humming an old jazz standard and slathering lotion on her legs, taking care not to get any on her cutoff shorts. She wiped the extra pink cream on her arms and vigorously rubbed her hands together to ward off the grease. Swaying slightly to her own music, she reached for her boots and pulled them on. When she reached over to grab her bow, she noticed Daryl watching her. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Sorry. You're usually a pretty heavy sleeper. Didn't think humming would wake up you."

"It's the smell," Daryl grumbled, stretching.

"Glenn picked it up for Lori during a run, but she didn't like the smell, either. Too vanilla-y."

"Didn't say I didn't like it," Daryl replied, getting up and pushing his feet into his own boots. "Where you going with that thing this early, anyway?"

"Out to practice, duh." Liz picked up her quiver of arrows and tied it to her belt loop. "Not like I'm good enough to go out slaying walkers or meat for us. I'll get there." She slung the bow over her back and began to search around for a bandana. "Have you seen my black bandana? Oh, found it."

"Why you got so much stuff, anyway?" Daryl glanced around at what had been his tent. Lotion, girl clothes, long black hairs and hair pins were everywhere. "Turning into a straight up chick tent," he growled as he unzipped the flap and stepped out.

Liz slapped Daryl on the thigh as she stepped out into the sunshine. "You love it. Just a little. Admit it!" When Daryl didn't reply, she grinned. "Besides, this was your idea."

"Yeah, yeah," Daryl growled. "Don't remind me or I might change my mind. Let you take your chances with your brother." So maybe it was nice having someone else around. He'd never admit it.

"You'd never. You'd miss me too much." she replied breezily. "Morning, T." Liz sang out as T-Dog walked by.

T-Dog chuckled. "Well, clearly a good morning for you. This is on again, huh? Good on you, man."

Daryl flipped the hair out of his eyes and stared at T blankly. "Huh?"

"What's on again?" Liz asked, glancing between T and Daryl. She reached up and began braiding the bandana into her hair.

"Oh, naw, what?" T-Dog replied. "Don't act like I forgot. This nonchalant thing ain't gonna work." He raised an eyebrow and waited.

"What do you mean?" Daryl drawled, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "Forgot what?"

"At the CDC?" T-Dog replied.

Liz shook her head. "Yeah?" She finished her braid and pinned it around her head, barely listening to the conversation.

"What 'bout it?" Daryl asked.

T looked back and forth between Liz and Daryl for reinforcement, but realized he wouldn't get it. "After dinner I came around lookin' for something else to drink and I walked in on ya'll."

"Yeah, so? Adults getting smashed together to bid farewell to the world as we knew it isn't a big deal." Liz hoisted her bow up higher.

"No, I didn't just walk in on you together. I walked in on you _together_." T emphasized the last word so that the situation was painfully clear. "You know, bedroom rodeo."

Liz and Daryl stared at each other in shock. Daryl's lip twitched. "Wh-what? Why you bringing that up now?" His hand flew to the back of his neck.

"No," T said in disbelief, stepping back. "No. I knew ya'll were drunk - but - don't tell me this is the first you're hearing of this."

Liz cleared her throat and became very aware of how hard her heart was pounding. "If you couldn't guess by our expressions, I'd say yeah, definitely the first." She glanced at Daryl, who quickly dropped his gaze to T Dog's boots.

T Dog rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Liz. No disrespect. Now you know, though, that's why I was always weirded out when you ended up in my tent to crash. Just crash," he quickly added, nodding at Daryl. "I have seen things that cannot be unseen."

Liz's mouth dropped open. "O-uh, oh, okay," she stuttered. Nervous laughter flowed from her lips. "It's not like it's something I've kept super under wraps, with magazine shoots and stuff, you know, right?" she stammered.

"Girl, I definitely ain't seen pictures like that, if they exist." T Dog laughed and nodded at Daryl. "Well, keep on. Ya'll good together."

The pair stared at the ground intensely as T-Dog carried on his way.

Liz racked her brain. _The group had joined one of the remaining CDC doctors for dinner, learned that there was no cure and.…_ She squeezed her eyes shut. "We were drinking with T, weren't we?"

Daryl kept his eyes fixed on the ground. "Yup."

Liz chewed at the inside of her lip and tried to recall the events of that night. "Yeah! We were playing Never Have I Ever. Oh," she cooed as images flashed back into her head, "I remember now. That was so fun! Then T left for some reason, and then it gets sort of," Liz continued sheepishly, "fuzzy. I think I remember you carrying me somewhere, but I assumed you were just picking me up off of the floor."

"I was blackout drunk," Daryl confessed. "Don't remember a thing." His face and neck were bright red and he'd started to sweat.

"Well, that's certainly one way to start the morning," Liz giggled. She reached out to touch Daryl's arm, but he cleared his throat and moved away.

"Yeah. I've got thangs to do. Rick and Shane are taking that Randall kid and dropping him off somewhere. I'll be around." He stalked off without another word.

"Liz, perfect. I need you." Lori waved Liz over to the porch that afternoon.

"Sure, what's up, Lor?" Liz asked as she trotted over.

"It's Beth. She's recovered from her shock, but now she wants to kill herself." Lori wiped sweat from her forehead. "She won't eat and she's trying to get Maggie to commit suicide with her." She looked at the singer with pleading eyes.

"Oh my god," Liz breathed. "What do we do?"

"Go talk to her. She loves you. Maybe you can talk some sense into her. Maggie, me, she doesn't listen to anyone else." Lori wrung her hands. "Shane and Rick are too busy and can't help. I thought they might know some sort of training for this type of thing. They're gone. It's gotta be you."

Liz swallowed and shook her head. "I'm not – I'm no one. I don't know anything about this. I have no idea what to say."

"I don't think it's about what you say," Lori replied. "It's just about being there. I've seen her following you around. She really admires you."

Liz nodded numbly and climbed the stairs to Beth's room. When she reached the door, she lifted her hand to knock, but let her wrist hang there limply. _I'm no one._ Suddenly everything Shane ever said about her career choice came spinning back into her head. _Why don't you do something useful?_ Maybe Shane was right. Here was an actual problem and she couldn't do a damn thing about it. Taking a deep breath, Liz knocked.

Maggie opened the door. "Oh, come in," she said, exhaustion apparent in her voice. "Beth, Liz came to see you."

Beth was pale and looked more exhausted than anyone Liz had ever seen. The teenager stared up at Liz with curiosity on her face. "You came- why?"

"I heard you're giving up on us." Liz sat down at the foot of the bed. She looked down at her boots and swallowed again.

"Not on you, on everyone. Every _thing_. It's hopeless. Don't you see what happens to people?" Beth spoke with calm resolve, which Liz found even more unsettling than her actual words. The girl continued, "I'm done. You can't stop me."

"I can't," Liz agreed. "But I can try to change your mind. You do so much! We'll be in a tight spot without you. No one to help Hershel, no one to help with Lori's baby when it's born. No one to do yoga with me."

"Maggie can do all that, since she won't come with me." Beth shot a glare at her older sister.

Maggie choked back a sob and stepped out into the hallway.

"She's not as good at that stuff and you know it," Liz said. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but you're being selfish. We'd probably all like to just give up, but that's dumb. We all need each other. We need you. We need Maggie. We need your dad. We need Rick, Glenn, everyone has a part."

The women sat in silence. Beth stared at her hands and Liz hoped she was letting the words sink in.

"We've all wanted to give up, but we're survivors. We push on. Things get better. If we would have given up a few weeks ago at the CDC, we never would have found this beautiful farm and met you beautiful people." Liz smiled and patted Beth's leg. "You never know what's around the corner."

Maggie stepped back into the room. "Andrea is coming up. I'm going to step out. Liz, why don't you come with me?

Liz raised at eyebrow at Beth. "You better be here when I get back. I'll be real pissed if my yoga partner quits on me."

Beth smiled, then quickly tried to wipe it from her face.

****

"Tell me something good." Maggie looked at her boots as she walked. "Tell me something normal. Tell me something that doesn't have to do with my little sister wanting to kill herself." She sniffled. "I mean it. Tell me about famous people you know. Anything."

Liz and Maggie were walking the edge of the property with nowhere to go. Things at the farm were suddenly heavy, and there was nowhere you could go to escape them.

"In L.A., my house was right next to Conan O'Brien's. He's just as funny in real life. Taller than you'd expect."

Maggie made a face. "He's weird."

"My other neighbor was Taylor Swift."

"Ain't she competition for you?"

Liz shook her head. "Nah. There's room for everyone. Even though I'm a few years older, she's been doing this longer. Gave me some pointers during a girl's night, once! She's just as normal as anyone. Zits and everything." Changing the subject, Liz nudged Maggie. "You tell _me_ something. How about you and Glenn?"

Maggie blushed. "We're," she paused and searched for the word. "We haven't quite had that discussion yet, but yeah, it's a _we."_ She grinned. "Ain't he sweet? He ain't like the rest of the men 'round here."

"The sweetest, really. He's pretty sweet on you, too," Liz agreed.

Maggie continued to smile. "I've been pretty mean to him, but it ain't like he's got a lot of choices anymore. I've got that going for me."

"Oh, don't worry- we've all covered plenty of watch shifts so he could come visit you." Liz smiled. After a moment, she asked, "Can I ask you something, woman-to-woman, since we're trying to talk about lighter things? That's the only reason. I never would have brought it up otherwise."

Nodding, Maggie replied, "Hit me. Anything to get my mind off my sister."

Liz nodded. "Okay. So." She cleared her throat, played with her hair, and jiggled her foot anxiously. "Uh, I'll just say it. T told me this morning that he walked in on Daryl and I having blackout drunk sex a few weeks back at the CDC. Neither of us remember anything. I wish I did, but it's just not there. Now Daryl's acting all weird!"

Maggie exploded with laughter and clapped her hands. "You go, girl. I've seen you bunking together. You're telling me you ain't screwing in there?"

"No," Liz replied. "Daryl got tired of Shane taking his anger out on me, so he just sort of took me in as a Shane deterrent. Sometimes we wake up and I'll have slid over and am touching him, but no cuddling, and none of _that."_ She bit her lip and tried not to smile. "Not that I _wouldn't!"_

"Apparently you have. Girl, have you seen those arms? I don't blame you. Snare that boy down. You're already living together. Might as well get something out of it!"  
 _  
_The girls devolved back into giggles, their troubles forgotten, if just for that minute.


	9. Red

**A /N: Hi, muffins! If you hadn't figured out by now, I'm just fleshing out character interaction between/during events of the show. We all know what happened at the farm – I don't want to bore anyone with a blow-by-blow recap.** **There's a lot of down-time between scenes… which is where I come in!**

For once, everyone was home on the farm. No one was out on runs, no one was out scouting or searching, and no one was missing. Liz, Lori, and Carol had finished up laundry and breakfast dishes and were playing poker in front of the RV.

"How're you feeling, Lori?" Carol asked as she glanced at her hand. "You said your pregnancy with Carl was cake, but each one is different, I hear."

"Oh, fine so far," Lori replied, looking at her hand and putting down a card. "Just a few sensitivities. Cooking meat. The smell makes me sick." She wrinkled up her nose. "Thinking about it makes me feel queasy."

"Mmhmm," Carol agreed, picking up a card. "I remember that well. But would Ed cook? No." She rolled her eyes. "You're lucky to have such a good man."

"Have you thought of any names?" Liz asked, frowning at her hand.

"Terrible poker face, Liz," Carol said, grinning. She threw in a few chips.

Liz scowled and slapped her cards down on the table. "I'm just learning."

"A few names," Lori said, throwing chips and running a hand over her swollen abdomen. "I'll have to try to get Rick to agree to them. It took us the entire nine months last time to agree on Carl."

"Where is Carl, anyway?" Liz asked, watching as Carol scooped Lori's chips into her own pile.

Lori looked up and glanced around. "I think he's out with Shane or Rick." She dealt out the next hand of cards. "He follows them around pretty loyally. I'm not worried."

"He's a good boy," Carol said with a tinge of sadness in her voice. "You make sure he's safe, Lori."

"I'm sure he's with one of them." She glanced at Liz. "Right? Have you seen Shane?"

Liz shook her head. "Nope. Been staying away from him. This whole thing has him pretty stressed out and I'm not going to be a punching bag anymore." She looked from Carol to Lori unapologetically.

Carol gave her a proud nod and replied, "Good girl!" but Lori winced.

"Your move," Carol nodded at Liz. "Hey, Sunshine," she called, nodding as Daryl quickly walked past the group and ducked into the RV. "Something wrong?"

"Nuh uh," Daryl grunted from inside. "Fine." After rustling around inside the RV for a minute, he called back out, "What happened to the bandages?"

Liz got up and stepped into the RV. "Bandages? They're right here," she said, pulling out a drawer. "Andrea did some reorganizing. What's up? Someone hurt?"

Daryl reached out and snatched the bandages from her.

"Hey," Liz gasped, grabbing his hand before he could pull it away. "Geeze."

Daryl's knuckles were cracked open and bleeding; fresh red blood mixing with the grime on his hands. He tried to draw his hand back. "I got it."

"No, here, let me," Liz said, reaching for the peroxide. "Sit down. Both hands?" She glanced over her shoulder and clicked her tongue. "That's got to hurt." She spun back around, knelt down, and began wiping the blood away. Though she was curious as to what exactly happened, she could about guess. Since he didn't look like he'd taken any blows, she could only guess it had something to do with the prisoner in the barn. "How many times am I going to have to clean and bandage you up, Dixon?"

"Thanks," Daryl said as Liz worked. "Sorry to interrupt your game." He slumped back against the booth seat and sighed.

"That's all right," Liz replied, wrapping a strip of gauze around the first hand. "Looks like this will ooze a bit as you move your hand. I'll change it before you go to sleep." She reached for the peroxide again and started cleaning the second hand.

The fact that Liz hadn't asked who he'd hit to bloody his knuckles so badly intrigued Daryl. "You ain' gonna ask?" he finally said as she worked.

Liz shook her head and kept cleaning. "Nope."

Daryl hissed and pulled his hand back slightly. "Damn, that hurts."

"You always strike with your right first," Liz commented. "Of course this one's going to hurt more." She looked into his face and raised an eyebrow. "Look who's learning real world deduction skills! Fine. I'll ask, since you clearly want to tell me. Who'd you beat the shit out of?"

"S' Randall." Daryl made a face. "Can't keep him here. The group he was with? Said they came across a camp site and found a man and his daughters and," he cut off and gave a disgusted sound. "I don't want him here. I don't want his group here." Images of Randall's men raping the camper's daughters flashed in his mind. _How could people be so shitty when we're all enduring the same thing?_

"Relax. You're making it worse," Liz said as she unfurled his clenched fingers. She winced at the long cracks between his fingers.

"Sorry. Jus' bullshit. We can't keep him here We've got enough problems without these assholes figuring out where we are." Daryl gritted his teeth. "There's gonna be a vote later today. Rick's gonna gather up everyone to decide what to do with Randall. Kill him or keep him."

Liz paused and felt the weight of his hand in hers. It was nice. "So you're telling me to vote your way."

"Everyone's gotta vote." Daryl lay his bandaged hand on top of hers. "If you heard the things he told me-"

"I trust you," Liz interrupted him. She reached for the gauze again and began to bandage his free hand. "And I don't trust him. If you say this is what needs to happen, I believe you. You've only ever tried to keep me safe. Us," she quickly corrected herself. "Kept us safe."

Daryl nodded. "Okay. Good." He looked down at his bandaged knuckles. "This ain' gonna be easy to explain."

"Then don't," Liz replied, packing the first aid kit back in the drawer. "I've got a game to get back to."

"Vote's at four," Daryl replied. "Dale's probably going to be comin' round to sway votes."

"I can be quite persuasive, myself," Liz called over her shoulder as she stepped out of the RV.

*****

Dale did indeed make his way around the camp trying to persuade the group to spare the outsider's life. The group met at four and voted; Randall was sentenced to death.

That evening, to distance herself from the barn, Liz grabbed her bow and trotted down to her stack of hay bales and brought Beth with her. The girl was recovered from her suicidal state and opening back up.

" _Yes."_ Liz hissed as her arrow hit the dead center of the bullseye spray-painted on the bales.

"You're really gonna shoot walkers with that thing?" Beth asked skeptically. "Those arrows don't look very sharp."

"Daryl's going to put metal points on them once I get good enough to even try shooting at walkers." Liz waggled her eyebrows. "And I think I'm good enough." She let another arrow loose. It landed just centimeters from the first one. "Nailed it." She spun around with her hands in the air. "Liz Clark: Walker Slayer."

"Maybe you could call your next album that," Beth giggled.

"Yeah, when this thing calms down, I'm done with love songs. It's all about the walkers." Liz spun around, drew an arrow, and let it loose again. Another bullseye. " _Uhhhh, yes!_ Want to try? I might be able to teach you. I'm terrible at explaining things, though."

"Nah," Beth replied, stretching out in the grass. "I'm not even supposed to be out here. Maggie doesn't want me to hear when they kill that boy."

"Don't get yourself in trouble," Liz replied as she trotted to the hay bales and pulled out her arrows. "Or me, for that matter. I think I'm the only one your dad has never gotten mad at."

"Oh," Beth said. "I won't get in trouble. Besides, he hasn't gotten mad at you, but he doesn't love you. Dad said not to be too influenced by you because he's seen your music videos."

"What!" Liz exclaimed. "They're totally not even that bad. I'm a great influence." She put her hands on her hips. "I taught you yoga. I offered to teach you to shoot archery."

"It's okay," Beth said. "Maggie really likes you. She said it's nice to have a girl friend again. She said you guys were sharing juicy girl talk." The girl tapped her boots on the ground, then shyly asked, "What was it about?"

Playing dumb, Liz repeated, "What was what about?"

"The girl talk. Maggie acts like I'm a kid and don't know anything. That's untrue. I let Jimmy go to _third base."_ Beth looked absolutely scandalized, but nodded proudly.

Liz laughed. "Maggie can tell you. It's her girl talk." She decided the revelation that she'd drunkenly slept with Daryl wasn't appropriate conversation for a teenager who had a crush on him. "Come on, it's getting dark. Besides, I thought you were tired of Jimmy?"

Beth sighed in annoyance. "Yes, but he's the only one around, I mean, ugh!"

Still laughing, Liz linked her arm around Beth's waist. "I'll go put the bow away, then I'll grab the guitar and we can jam out. How about that?"

"Cool," Beth breathed, taking off for the house.

*****

Sometime in the middle of the sing-along, which had grown to include Maggie, Lori, and Carol, a shout rang out from the woods.

"That wasn't the barn," Carol breathed. "Where is Rick? Shane? Where are the men?" She stood up. "Did something go wrong with Randall?"

Lori looked around with panic written on her face. "What was that?" Her hand flew to her collarbone as the worst thoughts crossed her mind.

The cries continued to drift toward the house.

"Stay here," Liz and Maggie snapped at Beth at the same time. The girl nodded and went inside.

"Watch Carl," Lori called to her.

"What's going on? Who is that?" Andrea said, running from the RV. "Is that Dale?" She pulled out her pistol and clicked off the safety as she joined the group running for the clearing.

Liz held her gun in her hand and prayed she wouldn't have to use it. Ahead, she could see a small group gathered around someone on the ground. "Oh, god," she panted. "Please no."

As the women approached, Rick turned and held his hands up. "Get back. Lori, go back to the house-"

"Is anyone else hurt?" Maggie cried. "What happened?"

"Jesus," Liz panted when she caught sight of the man on the ground. Dale had been ripped open; his innards falling out of his abdomen and a look of absolute agony on his face. A walker lie dead a few yards away.

"Get Hershel," Rick said, grabbing Lori by the arms. "Go get Hershel."

"No," Shane said as he loomed over Dale. "He's done." He turned and for the first time in days, caught Liz's gaze.

Liz stared right back at him, refusing to show anything less than strength, even in this horrifying situation. She felt her nostrils flare. _This isn't the time,_ she tried to convey. Finally, Shane looked away and back down to Dale.

"Someone do something," Andrea cried, stepping away. "Oh, god."

"Sorry, brother," Daryl mumbled as he pulled out his pistol and took aim at Dale's forehead. Liz turned her head away as Daryl pulled the trigger and ended the old man's misery.

*****

The next night was definitely the first time Liz had ever been happy to take night watch, and did it solo. Glenn had argued and tried to relieve her of the duty, but she vehemently clung to her scheduled post. Everyone had been deeply shaken by Dale's death the previous night, but she hadn't been close to him at all. The group needed to sleep and mourn. Hershel had moved the group into his house, which gave great solace. Once they'd settled in and started falling to sleep, Liz grabbed her knife and a pistol and crept out to the front porch, wincing every time the hard wood floor creaked.

Outside, the Georgia skies were swirling and churning, throwing lightning back and forth every few minutes. An eerie calmness hung in the air and Liz eagerly anticipated the storm's ignition. Finally something natural. Liz took a deep breath and smiled. As children, she and Shane always raced outside as soon as the rain began to fall. Their mother would sit inside and fret, knowing she couldn't keep them in when the storms rolled through.

A cool breeze touched Liz's face, bringing her back to the Greene porch. _Shane._ She shivered. Whether it was due to the cold front rolling in or the memories of her brother's lips at her neck, she couldn't say.

At long last, a violent crash of thunder started off the storm. The windows of the house rattled. Bright lightning illuminated the yard for a split second. Liz used the flash to scan the horizon; finding herself shocked that it was void of walkers.

"Thunder must confuse 'em."

Liz jumped and drew her knife, swearing aloud.

Daryl was standing shirtless with his jeans hanging low, his nighttime attire. He was leaning against the door frame. Letting it shut softly behind him, he stepped onto the porch. "Hey."

"How many times are you going to sneak up on me? Jesus, I thought you were Shane. And how, oh how did I know you wouldn't trust me to stand watch by myself?" Liz put her knife in her belt and hands on her hips. "I can do this. I can keep us safe. Perimeter sweeps around the house. _I know._ " She huffed in frustration.

Daryl put his hands up. "I didn't bring no weapon. Trained you myself, didn' I? Of course you can do it." He pulled up the second wicker chair and lowered himself into it. "Just love storms." He stretched out his legs and put his hands behind his head. "Been a long time since we had one."

Liz sat back down. "Are you sure you're not just checking up on me?"

"What if I was?" Daryl pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

Liz smirked. "Then I'd say your tough guy act was falling through."

Daryl snorted and took a drag of the cigarette. "Whatever."

Liz reached out. "May I?"

Handing her the cigarette, Daryl nodded in surprise. "I didn't know you smoked."

"I don't," Liz said, dropping the cigarette and stomping it out. "It's bad for you. Stop."

Daryl scowled and reached into his pocket for another, but Liz lunged at him and snatched the pack from his hand. "Seriously! Stop." She crushed the pack between her fingers and stuffed it into her own pocket. "There."

Daryl scowled at her. "What's it matter to you? Those were perfectly good."

"They'll kill you."

"Lots of things could kill me nowadays," Daryl growled. "Now I don' feel so bad about never gettin' married. Having a woman around all the time is annoying."

Liz pursed her lips and stared straight ahead. "You're welcome." After a moment, she glanced over. "You mad at me?"

Daryl lazily flicked his hand in her direction. "Naw."

"I'm sorry you had to put Dale down." Liz looked out to the field as lightning forked across the sky again. "You seem okay. Are you?"

"Yeah. Someone had to do it," Daryl said. "Better that way." As a low rumble of thunder spilled over into a roar, he leaned forward and looked up at the sky. "If I ever turn, don't you hesitate." He glanced at her and smiled to see she, too, was staring up at the clouds. After a moment, he added, "Don't get yourself into trouble. I ain' puttin' you down. Couldn't."

Instead of covering her mouth and squealing like a teenager like she wanted to, Liz rolled her eyes and changed the subject. "Of all of us, you'll be the last to turn. I've seen you do insane things. Like, action movie things. Is that what you did before this? Stunt man?"

"You got me." He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes, folding his hands over his stomach.

"I'll figure you out, Dixon." When Daryl didn't give a smart ass response, she looked over and scoffed. "What, you miss staying in the same tent? I thought I was annoying to have around. You're sleeping out here now?"

Daryl opened an eye. "Not if you keep talking." He grinned and shimmied around until he got comfortable in the chair. He kicked his feet up onto the porch railing and sighed. "Perfect."

Liz crossed her arms and sighed. "You can't be serious."

As the rain began to fall, Daryl smiled and replied, "G'night."


	10. Breakfast

It really hadn't been that long since the group had eaten around a table, but it felt like it. Lori, Patricia, and Liz had cooked a massive breakfast to refuel and refresh the group after the previous evening's draining events. Dale's funeral was still ahead of them, and everyone would need their energy to get through the sorrow.

"This feels like a _feast,"_ Carl exclaimed, popping half a muffin into his mouth.

"Manners," Rick growled.

Carl nodded, his cheeks puffed out and full of food. He let out a muffled "Sorry," and sprayed crumbs all over the table.

Everyone chuckled.

"I didn' eat this good back when the world was okay," Shane said through a mouthful of hash browns. "Took the end of the world to eat like a king! Well done, ladies."

Patricia nodded, but didn't smile at him. Liz ignored him all together, earning a nod from Carol.

"We've earned it," Andrea said, reaching out and touching Shane's arm. He easily brushed it off and dove back into his plate.

"I'm sorry," Hershel said, glancing around at the group. "I should have brought you inside a long time ago."

"Well, you brought us in," Rick replied. "That's what matters, and that's more than we could have asked. Thank you."

Everyone held up their respective glasses and toasted to Hershel over fresh orange juice.

Carol reached over and grabbed Liz by the shoulder. "Hey. You don't look so good."

Daryl's eyes flicked to Liz. She was pale and her eyes looked glassed over. She'd looked better, but he'd also seen her looking worse. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Daryl had grown overly fond of the girl; a much deeper emotion than the initial interest he'd had in her from seeing her on late night shows and in magazines. During the week plus she'd stayed in his tent, he'd gotten used to her quirks and come to find them endearing. Now, as he watched her squirm uncomfortably, he worried. _Flu? Food poisoning? Something else?_ His stomach flipped as a realization dawned on him. _Something else._

"Must have eaten some rotten fruit yesterday," Liz replied uncertainly. Her stomach was churning. She excused herself from the breakfast table and strode outside. "Just gonna get some fresh air."

"Does someone want to-" Lori started. Carol began to rise, but Daryl stood first. "Got it."

Maggie raised an eyebrow at Glenn as a sly smile crept onto her face. "What a nice guy," she said, before turning and winking at Beth, who was pouting.

Andrea made a face from across the table. "To _her,_ maybe. What do the rest of us have to do to get a little attention from him? Even a word?" She snorted and took another piece of quiche. "Whatever. We can't all be famous. I guess that's his thing."

Carol tutted. "She _hardly_ acts like she's famous. Don't be jealous. I talk to Daryl all the time. Maybe it's you."

"Let him chase her," Shane cut in, speaking over Carol. "She'll have him running in no time. Girl's a pistol. Should have seen her in her teenage years! Rick, am I right? How many nights did we have to chase that girl down or chase off whoever was infatuated with her? She's a professional heartbreaker and I wouldn't have her any other way. C'mon, Rick, you knew her just as well as me. Back me up."

Rick grinned. "I don't know. I think Daryl could keep up with her."

Shane suddenly scowled. "She won't have that, no sir-ee. I know my sister. Taught her all the same defensive moves I know. No one's gonna push her around." He bit off a piece of fresh baked bread and chewed noisily. "She ain' gon' let the likes of _him_ hang around. She knows better. Got better taste." _She's mine,_ he thought angrily, glaring across the table at his former partner. His gaze then shifted to Lori. _What does Rick know, anyway? He's just like Daryl- trying to take what's mine._

"It's none of your business, what she does." Carol said breezily. "So there's that."

Lori nodded to her and raised her glass again. "There's that. "

****

Outside, Liz was doubled over near the fence. She'd thrown up the breakfast she'd managed to eat, yet still she heaved. Beads of sweat formed on the back of her neck. _The heat's getting to me,_ she thought, wiping her face. _That's all. I'm not infected. I'm fine._

Daryl strode over and stood a few feet away, his hands stuffed in his pocket. "You all right?"

"Not in the mood for a chat," Liz panted. A moment later, she bent over and gagged again, coughing up yellow bile.

Without hesitation, Daryl reached out and pulled back her hair. "Damn, girl. Well, get it out." As she retched, he patted her back. "There you go."

When Liz stood upright, she wiped her mouth and nodded at him. "Ugh. Thanks." She spit and cleared her throat. "I came out here because I didn't want anyone to see that." She scrunched up her nose at him. "So, that happened."

"You pregnant?" Daryl blurted, looking her up and down once.

"What?" Liz put her hand on her sore stomach.

"You were fine an hour ago. This morning sickness?" He shifted his weight. "If T wasn't playin', and we hooked up at the CDC, you could be pregnant." He shifted his weight back and watched as Liz's face portrayed several different reactions at once.

Finally, a grin broke through on her face. "Is that the only reason you kept looking out for me and moved me in with you?" Liz popped her hip out and crossed her arms. "And here I thought you liked me."

"So you are?" Daryl exhaled sharply, then nodded. "All right. Okay."

"No! I'm _not,"_ Liz said plainly.

"Are you sure?" Daryl studied her face. "You can tell me. You _should_ tell me."

"I'm positive." Liz shrugged. "It must just be the rich food making me sick. I don't know. I'm not pregnant. Don't worry." For some reason, she'd never given any thought to whether or not she could be pregnant after T revealed that she'd slept with Daryl. _Bigger things to worry about,_ she figured.

Daryl nodded and was shocked to find himself feeling slightly disappointed. _Don't be stupid._ _Having a baby out here is suicide. Having two newborns in the group_ _at once_ _? Damn near impossible._ "Okay. Well, good." He turned back for the house.

Liz watched in disbelief as he walked away."So are we going to talk about this now?"

Daryl looked back. "Talk 'bout what?"

"The CDC."

"Nothin' to talk about," Daryl said, not stopping. He felt heat rise up his neck and creep into his cheeks.

"There is!" Liz exclaimed. "Do you regret it- sleeping with me? Are you embarrassed? Are we together? I have a lot of questions! You're so stubborn, I haven't been able to bring it up and figure out what's going on." She immediately regretted bringing up the topic after throwing up in front of him, but it had been gnawing at her for days. "Daryl! _T_ _alk_ to me. You came out here because you thought I was having your baby, and now that I'm not, you're just leaving?"

Closing his eyes and sighing, Daryl turned around. "Fine." The irony of the situation hit him for what seemed like the hundredth time since they'd arrived on the farm. Here was the country's hottest celebrity, nagging at him for smoking, leaving her girl shit all over his tent, and staring at him with _that look_. He'd inadvertently fucked her and now she was demanding answers. _Before the switch, if someone would have told me this would happen, I'd bet everything I owned that they were full of shit._ He sucked in a breath. She was smart. She was kind. She tried to do the right thing. He was stupid to leave her hanging. He was even stupider to think that she was asking him this because she had feelings for him.

Liz tapped her boot on the ground impatiently. "Well? Thoughts?"

"What do you want?" he replied.

"I want to know what _you_ want. Tell me what you're thinking, for once. You're the least reactive person I've ever met," Liz exclaimed. "When T said we slept together, you stormed away like you were mad at me about it. You're still acting mad about it. Why? Am I that bad? I thought you might be," she caught herself before she finished the sentence with _"in love with me_." She tried not to blush, but felt it happen anyway. "Maybe you felt something between us."

 _Guess it's now or never,_ Daryl thought _._ "I ain't the kind of man who just has his way with women. I ain't like that. I ain' Merle. I was drunk. I shouldn't have done it to you." He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "You don't deserve that. You deserve better." He racked his brain, but couldn't come up with the right thing to say, or much of anything to say.

Liz blinked and registered the words. When she spoke, her words were disjointed and as unorganized as her thoughts. "'Done it to me?' No, you didn't- it was what I want- wanted, I'm sure. But, so...?"

 _Damn it._ _Where was he going with this?_ "So what do you want?" Daryl's nostrils flared and he crossed his arms to mirror hers.

 _You,_ Liz thought immediately. Instead, she looked at the ground between them and shook her head. "I, I, nothing. Just thought you were mad. But I'm not pregnant, neither of us remember that night, so I guess that's that." She forced a smile and tried to gauge Daryl's reaction, hoping that's what he wanted to hear. She fidgeted with her hands and bit her lip.

Daryl nodded once and tried to determine whether her obvious nervousness was because there was more she wanted to say or because he was making her uncomfortable. Opting for the latter, he turned back for the house. "I'll see you aroun' later."

"Thanks for babysitting me while I threw up," Liz mumbled under her breath. She massaged her sore stomach and watched as Daryl leapt up the porch steps, glancing back at her momentarily with a pained look on his face before letting the screen door swing shut behind him.


	11. On the Bike

Liz had always felt the thought lurking in the back of her mind: the farm won't be safe forever. Things went to hell much more quickly than she had ever imagined, though. Shane had come running out of the woods to her, claiming the outsider-turned-prisoner Randall had broken out of the barn and caught him off guard. The men set out to find him, leaving the women in the house. Something about the story seemed fishy to Liz. _Since when can someone catch Shane off guard, especially a pipsqueak like that Randall kid?_ Now, she was hunkered down in the house waiting for news. She was curled up with the Greene sisters on the couch; the older girls' pistols loaded and on the coffee table in front of them.

Lori swore and paced back and forth, running her hand over her barely-swollen midsection without even realizing it. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

"Language," Hershel warned from the kitchen.

"This is stupid," Andrea complained. "I could be out there searching, too. I can't believe they treat me like a child. All of us. Why are we supposed to sit in here and wait for the men to save the day?" Despite her complaint, she remained seated and instead, glanced out the window wistfully.

"Just give it a rest, huh? We don't need more people out there in the woods," Lori snapped. She walked to the stairs and yelled for Carl to come down. When he didn't reply, she squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. "Has anyone seen Carl?"

"That little shit head," Andrea mumbled. "I'll go find him."

"We'll all go," Maggie said, grabbing her gun from the table and handing Liz hers. "It ain't safe and you'll go runnin' and try to be the hero."

Carol jumped up and headed for the door before any of them. "We'll find him. We have to."

The second the group stepped outside, it was clear that Carl missing wasn't their only problem. A colossal herd of walkers was stumbling toward the house and the barn was ablaze. Black smoke swirled up toward the stars.

"Jesus," Andrea breathed. She fired off a few shots, then shook her head. "We've got to go. We can't just stay here. Load up the cars! I'll take as many of them out as I can."

"Is the barn on fire?" Lori asked suddenly in a small voice. "What's – what?" She looked around frantically; her eyes as wide as a deer in the headlights'.

Liz scanned the yard and found only walkers. She ran back inside and grabbed her bow and arrows. Standing on the porch, she took aim and shot a few arrows. Walkers fell to the ground, but more quickly lurched forward to replace them. "Where are they? Where are the men?" she called. "They're still out in the woods?" She felt to make sure her knife was in her belt, then slung her bow over her shoulder and took off into the yard, dodging walkers or popping her knife into their temples to drop them.

"Liz!" Carol screeched desperately from the porch. "What are you doing?"

"I'll be back! I'll be fine!" Liz called over her shoulder as she headed for the woods. When she reached the treeline, she paused and glanced at a shining spot on a tree. Blood. She swore and looked down at the ground, trying to remember the tracking lesson Rick had tried to give her a few years ago. She'd laughed it off and asked when she'd ever need to track someone through the mean streets of L.A.. _Stupid, stupid me_. Liz squinted at the ground and started following foot tracks. There were far too many to make sense; they were muddled and tracks were covering other tracks. "Damn it," she hissed, slinging her bow onto her shoulder and instead, pulling out her pistol. Ignoring her better judgment, she crept along, trying to determine whether the four men had gone out together, or which of the four men she was tracking.

The answer came quickly, as a familiar hushed voice came from nearby.

"Glenn?" Liz hissed. "Glenn?" She raised her gun and held it steady.

"What in the hell are you doing out here?" Daryl's gruff voice answered. He and Glenn appeared out of the shadows and quickly reached the girl. The men both looked her over and stared at her in confusion.

"I'm fine," Liz quickly snapped. "The barn's on fire, there's a herd of walkers at the house- we need to gather everyone together and get out of here. Where are Rick and Shane?"

"Don't know, but we heard a gunshot," Glenn replied. "We were just on our way back to say the same thing. Is everyone else okay?"

When Liz nodded, he sighed in relief.

"Shane's up ta something," Daryl said, scanning the surrounding area before continuing. "We found Randal dead of a broken neck. He turned, though. Shane and Rick still missin'. I got a bad feelin' bout that."

"Jesus," Liz whispered. "He'll kill Rick."

Glenn stopped and turned back to face Liz. "What? Why? Why would he do that?"

"Lori," Liz replied. "Shane's out of his mind. He thinks Lori belongs to him, since he got her and Carl out of the city." She shook her head. "Never mind that now. We've gotta get back to the house. Maybe they're there." Dark thoughts of what the gunshot Daryl and Glenn heard meant crossed her mind and she tried to push them out of her head.

As the group reached the treeline, Glenn gasped and Daryl swore. Dozens of walkers were stumbling toward the house. Shots were ringing out and the living were screaming to each other. Cars roared to life and the barn crackled as it burned brighter and brighter.

"Get to the bike," Daryl said to Liz. "We can hold them off for a while, just to make sure everyone's accounted for. C'mon." He took off at a dead sprint, his knife and bow in his hands.

"I've gotta find Maggie," Glenn puffed as he ran. "We'll meet back on the highway, yeah?"

"Highway. Got it. Spread the word to anyone you see," Liz agreed as Glenn turned for the house and they continued toward the camp.

"Keep up," Daryl growled from in front of her as he slashed at walkers left and right. "C'mon!" He turned back and waited for her, firing a bolt from his crossbow before spotting her on the ground trying to wrench a knife from a walker's skull.

"I'm right behind you," Liz grunted as she tugged. Usually the walkers were much more decomposed, but this particular one was freshly turned and the skull was thicker than she'd expected. The knife pulled free just as another walker reached her and grabbed at her shirt. Before she had time to react, the walker dropped with an arrow in the middle of its forehead.

"I said keep up," Daryl growled as Liz snatched the arrow from the skull. He looked her over quickly as she stumbled toward him and handed him the arrow. "You ridden before?"

Liz nodded. "Yeah, I have for a video."

"We're gonna sweep the perimeter," Daryl said as she jumped onto the bike and steadied herself. "We ain' gon' be close 'nough for knives. Arrows and bullets."

Liz nodded and raised her bow. "I don't know if I can do this from this angle," she called to him over the roar as the bike began rolling. She let an arrow loose and it found its home in a walker's eye.

"Looks fine to me," Daryl replied. "Let's go." He revved the engine and swept along the fence line, in utter disbelief at the number of walkers before them. He debated riding back closer to the house, then decided against it. A few of the cars were doing the same as he was; sweeping back and forth, firing out the windows. He didn't dare try to count how many people were in each car; dropping the bike here would be suicide. With every twang of the bow he'd carved with his own hands, he saw a walker drop. "Doin' good," he called over his shoulder.

When she ran out of arrows, Liz pulled out her pistol. The first gunshot made Daryl twitch in surprise, but he called back to her, "How many rounds you got?" Liz shook her head. "Not enough. We aren't even making a dent." She glanced back toward the house. She saw Hershel firing a shotgun, and spotted Glenn and Maggie in a car together. "How do we know when it's time to leave?"

"We don't," Daryl replied. He pulled ahead to an area void of walkers and came to a stop. He reached into his sidebag and pulled out his pistol. "Here. We've gotta give them more time." He handed it back to her, along with the ammo. "Can't worry about needing them later, since there might not be a later. Drop as many as you can."

"Go!" Liz screeched as a walker stumbled up from behind them. She fired a shot and watched in fascination as black blood that looked like tar oozed from the wound.

Daryl scanned the farmstead. A car was bumping walkers to the ground as it rumbled toward the gate. "They're heading out," he called back to her as he kicked the bike into gear. "It's time to go."

Liz glanced to the drive and a pick-up's tail lights, while another car looped back around again to sweep past the barn. "One more sweep by the gate so they can make it out," Liz replied. "Let's do one more. We'll be okay."

Daryl nodded and swung the bike around. Liz laid down fire, dropping the line of walkers closest to the road leading out of the farm. "How many cars went out?" she asked. _We have to give them more time._

Daryl shook his head. "Don't know." He circled the house once more, nearly running over Patricia's lifeless body. He groaned and hoped Liz hadn't seen. He steadied the bike, then put his feet down and grabbed his crossbow. "Ain' nowhere to go. Help me clear a path!" Shot after shot, walkers fell, but more replaced them quickly and began to close in on them. "Different plan," Daryl called, turning and heading back for the woods.

"Daryl, no," Liz protested. "We'll dump the bike." She took out a few more walkers before they hit the treeline.

Daryl carefully navigated through the trees; his knuckles turning white on the handlbars. If it had been just him, he'd have swept the farm as long as he could to ensure everyone got out. With Liz on the back, he couldn't bring himself to stay a second longer.

"We're going the wrong direction. We've got to get back to the highway," Liz shouted over the engine.

"Trust me," Daryl replied. "We ain' gonna make it through the herd that way. They'll pull us off the bike." He slowed and avoided a fallen tree and a stray walker.

Liz slashed the monster in the face before the motorcycle lurched forward and carried them away from the farm for good. She looked over her shoulder and could just make out the orange glow from the barn. She closed her eyes shut and prayed they'd all made it out alive.

****

What seemed like hours later, the motorcycle roared to a stop on the highway. Daryl breathed a sigh of relief and Liz closed her eyes and thought a silent prayer as members of the group waved to them. They were apparently the last to arrive.

"Thank God," Hershel called out. "We thought you two were dead."

Liz got off the motorcycle and heaved a sigh. Her hips were screaming in agony from the long ride, and her arm was sore from the bow. But I'm alive. Realizing how lucky she'd been to avoid injury or death, she suddenly turned back to Daryl and watched him reach down and flip the kick stand. A smile crept onto her face as he ran a hand through his hair.

"What?" Daryl asked after a moment. He looked up and immediately swore he'd never forget the moment; Liz Clarke staring at him with half a smirk on her face after they're teamed up and shot walkers from a motorcycle. There were blood splatters across her blue and white gingham shirt, just as her freckles were splashed across her cheeks and nose. The rising sun was coming up behind her, giving her a glowing halo.

A smile still playing on her lips, Liz shook her head. "Nothing." With that, she bent down, slid her hands to the back of his neck, and kissed him. She was pleasantly surprised that he smelled and tasted somehow familiar. _Something in me remembers the CDC_ , she thought with giddy delight.

Daryl didn't have a chance to react to the brief yet passionate lock before Liz turned and walked toward the group without him. "What the hell was that?" he called after her.

Liz didn't hear; the group had come forward to embrace her. Lori hugged Liz and tried to stop crying. "Thank God. We saw you heading for the gate, then you looped back. Jesus, Liz." She pulled away and nodded into Liz's face. "I thought we lost you."

Carol was next. "She was doing more than the rest of us," she sighed, throwing her arms around Liz. "We saw that. It's about time," she whispered in Liz's ear. When she pulled away, Carol wore a mischievous grin on her face.

Liz smirked. "It's been a long night. I deserved that." Then she giggled, putting her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.

Daryl strolled over and glanced around the group. "This it?"

Glenn nodded. "Yeah. What's the plan?" Glenn turned to Rick. "We lost a lot of people. We need to go. I'm not losing any more." He held Maggie close and had a new steely look in his eye.

"He's right," Rick drawled. "It ain't safe here. We're going."

Liz glanced from Maggie to Beth and frowned. The blonde was staring at the ground; a blank expression on her face, similar to the look she wore when contemplating and eventually attempting suicide back at the farm. "Andrea, Patricia, Jimmy?" Liz asked, her momentary elation at being alive all but gone.

Everyone shook their heads and avoided her gaze.

"Shane?" Liz asked, suddenly realizing his absence. She glanced around at everyone's faces, certain she'd just missed him. When she couldn't find him, she felt her stomach drop in dread. "Is- is he out scouting out the road?"

Rick glanced at Carl, then back at Liz. He shook his head slowly. "He didn't make it," Rick said, his voice strained. Carl began to cry.

Liz stepped backward and put a hand to her chest in shock. As much as she hated Shane for what he had become, he was her brother. They'd grown up together and until recently, she had held out hope that their relationship could be salvaged. For every one time he'd struck her, there were a hundred times as children when he had hugged her. She waited for tears to fall, but they didn't come. Instead, a sense of relief washed over her. A slight guilt coupled with the feeling, but she pushed it away.

"Shit," Daryl mumbled, putting an arm around her waist. Liz immediately folded into his chest for support. She nodded and let the fact sink in. Shane was dead. She was officially out of family in this world.

"I'm sorry, Lizzy, I-" Rick trailed off when his voice broke and shook his head. "He was my best friend." Next to him, Lori began sniffling. Rick hung his head.

"We have to go," Glenn interrupted. "We can do this later. We all lost people. Come on." He pulled Maggie toward the car. "It's not safe here. Why are we standing around? No one else is coming. We saw what happened to everyone else. They were the only ones we were waiting for."

Liz watched as Rick moved his mouth wordlessly at her. His lip trembled, but she shook her head in reply. "It's okay," she said, knowing that however her brother had died, it was better that Rick had survived.

"We've gotta go," Daryl said softly at her ear.

Liz took a slow breath and nodded. "I know," she said. "I just didn't expect," she trailed off. Fact of the matter was, her Shane had been gone a long time and wasn't coming back. "Okay. I'm okay." She nodded and repeated it.

"Move out," Rick called.

"Can you ride?" Daryl asked. "If you need to get in a car, I can-"

"No, fresh air will do me good." Liz said. She took another deep breath and nodded confidently. "I'm with you." She gave him a small smile.

Daryl nodded, then before he realized that he was doing, reached around and placed his hand on the back of her head. "You're with me," he repeated in a low growl. He leaned in suddenly doubted himself. _Her brother just died. What the hell are you doing?_ His heart began to hammer and for a second he wondered if was going to survive the moment. Walkers were one thing, but girls were an entirely different beast.

Sensing his sudden apprehension, Liz reached up and locked her arms around Daryl's neck. She glanced up into his eyes and smirked. "I used to think you weren't afraid of anything, you know?"

Daryl opened his mouth to speak, but no reply came to mind. Instead, he laughed and wrapped his free arm around her waist. "Just chupacabras and girls." Though they were both covered in grime and blood, Daryl caught the same vanilla scent that he'd started to associate with the girl. Liz felt comfortable in his arms, and he suddenly wondered what he would have done if she hadn't made it to the highway. Her nose ring brushed against the tip of his nose and his breath caught in his chest.

"You're gonna have to get over that fear," Liz whispered, raising up on her toes and brushing her lips against his.

"Kiss her, fool," Maggie's voice came from nearby.

Carol pressed her hands together and squealed as Daryl kissed Liz, dipping her slightly. She beamed and elbowed Beth. "Finally. Our own personal soap opera has paid off at last." Carol sighed and tilted her head as she watched the pair.

In spite of her grief, Beth grinned and suppressed a giggle.

"Told you," T mumbled to Carl, who made a face.

"How'd you know that was going to happen?" Carl asked, tipping back his dad's sheriff hat and looking up at T.

T smirked. "Magic. I'll explain when you're older."


	12. One Job

This was the third house they'd broken into today. The others would have been impossible to secure, but they did pick up a few canned goods at each place. Now the survivors stood on the front porch of a beautiful white farm house on the edge of a town.

"I've got that shed over there," T said, nodding. "I'll check it out and load whatever I find we can use in the pick up."

Rick nodded. "I'll do the same in the barn. Should be quick and painless."

Liz double checked that the safety was off on her rifle and nodded toward Glenn and Daryl. "While ya'll sweep the first floor, I'll head upstairs with Maggie."

"No," Glenn and Daryl snapped at the same time. Maggie rolled her eyes and Liz glared at the men.

"Who else is gonna do it?" Maggie asked. "Lori? Carl? I don't think so. We're moving in now. We're losing light. We're tired of sitting behind and waiting for you to sweep the whole house. We're doing it."

"We've been on the run for a week. We get how it's done," Liz added.

"We ain't going to run around in the dark with everyone so exhausted, especially Lori," Maggie continued as the men tried to shut them out. She loaded her pistol and headed for the door. "Ready?"

Glenn and Daryl exchanged glances and nodded at each other reluctantly.

"These stubborn southern women," Glenn groaned. "Be safe," he said, touching Maggie's shoulder before Daryl kicked in the door and grumbled, "Let's go."

As the men swept through the kitchen and sitting rooms, Maggie and Liz crept up the staircase.

"We've got this, girl," Maggie whispered. "Clear it, get everyone in, and bust into that bottle of wine Carl found last house."

They came upon a door at the top of the stairs and paused. There was a gnawing sound coming from inside. _Walkers._ Liz nodded at Maggie, who nodded back and stepped in front of the door and prepared to shoot whatever was inside. Before Liz had a chance to pull the door open, it was flung wide and collided with her, sending her tumbling noisily down the stairs.

 _Shit,_ _Liz_ thought was she tried to grasp for the railing as she fell. Everything seemed like it was in slow motion. Gunshots rang out from above as Maggie took down the walkers charging her. Commotion from downstairs indicated that the rest of the group was coming to help out, if needed. Liz frantically tried to make sense of where her own rifle was in relation to her body. Halfway down the stairs, she felt her forehead meet a something hard and she knew no more.

"Hey."

 _The front door swung open and snapped shut._ _Liz looked up from the vegetables she was chopping. "Hey!" She flipped her hair out of her eyes. "How'd you bowl?" She took a long sip of wine and sighed happily. She loved Saturdays at home. She loved her yellow kitchen. She loved when Daryl got home._

 _Daryl strode toward the kitchen with a grin on his face. "Killed everyone but Merle. Just barely beat him." He dropped his bag. "Smells great. You look great." He kissed her neck just under her ear. "You're a sight for sore eyes after spending the afternoon with my brother's ugly ass crew." He gave her ass a squeeze before turning away._

 _Goosebumps rose on her arms and she set her knife down as Daryl grabbed a beer from the fridge. "You're asking_ _for it," Liz warned._

 _"Am I?" Daryl sat his beer can down, grabbed her hips from behind and kissed her neck again. "You leave for tour_ _in a week. I'd better ask for it every day until then, huh?" The words came out as a mumble against her skin, sending shivers down to her heels._

 _Liz squealed as he spun her round, scooped her up and sat her on the counter effortlessly. "Daryl! You'll make me burn dinner," she half-heartedly protested._

 _"Then I'll take you out." Daryl grinned and leaned in so that his lips brushed against hers._ "Wake up."

"I'll burn dinner," she repeated.

"Dinner?" Daryl looked up at Hershel. "She hallucinating?"

Hershel squinted. "Liz? Can you hear us? Open your eyes if you can hear us."

" _They are open."_ _Liz reached out to correct a wild hair standing up behind Daryl's ear_. _"_ What's wrong?"

Daryl caught her hand as she held it out in front of her, pawing at something that wasn't there. "You won't wake up, that's what's wrong." He'd gotten to Liz a moment too late; he'd been unable to slow her fall as she bounced down the stairs. Once the house was clear, he and Rick had carried her upstairs to the master bedroom and Daryl had been watching and worrying over her ever since.

Liz's eyes batted open. She squinted into the light, then immediately drew back her hand to shield her face. "What's happening?" She knew Daryl was there by the smell of denim and leather.

"You got knocked down the stairs, Liz. You've got a concussion, maybe more," Hershel's voice came.

Someone moved her hands back from her face and held them down. Something pried open her eye and suddenly, a bright light flashed back and forth before the same happened to the other eye. Then, the light was gone. "I wasn't near the stairs. We were in my kitchen. When did Hershel get here? Is he hungry?" Liz asked, still quite groggy.

"You ain't at your house," Daryl said, worry settling in his voice. Glancing at Hershel again, he asked, "Amnesia?"

Before he could answer, Liz sat up and swayed. The men pushed her back down, and she closed her eyes again. She could tell she was on a bed, but beyond that, she couldn't grasp what was happening. Sleep was drifting over her, and she happily sighed and nestled into the mattress beneath her.

"Open your eyes, girl," Daryl groaned. Liz's eyes fluttered open for a moment, then shut again.

"Liz?" Hershel said, touching her shoulder.

When she didn't open her eyes, Daryl bent down next to her ear and hissed, " _Liz."_

Liz opened her eyes. "Hmm?"

"You need to keep her awake. She seems to respond best to you," Hershel said, sitting back. "Only time will tell if there's a brain bleed. If that's the case, there's not much we can do." He stood and sighed, giving Daryl a sad look. "I'm going to rest a while. Lori, Carol, Maggie, Beth, they'll all keep her awake and talking when you need a break."

"Yup," Daryl mumbled as the old veterinarian walked from the room. As soon as Hershel had gone, Daryl slid Liz over and sat down on the mattress beside her. "You heard the doc, didn't you? Get up. Gotta stay awake."

Liz took a deep breath and kept her eyes closed. She was exhausted and dancing on the edge of sleep. Reality and dreams were mixing together and she couldn't tell which was which. _She reached out for her wine glass and took another drink; raspberry_ _zinfandel_ _was her jam._

"It's either stay awake or die, so stay awake." Daryl pulled the blanket back from Liz's body and pinched her thigh through a hole in her jeans.

" _Ow!"_ Liz's eyes popped open. "Geeze." She gingerly massaged the skin. "That'll leave a bruise."

"Oh, well." Daryl sighed and brushed Liz's hair back from her forehead. A solid knot was pressing outward and turning purple already. "Got walloped there pretty good, huh?" When Liz didn't reply, he poked at the spot on her thigh again.

"D _amn it, Daryl."_ Liz groaned and opened her eyes a sliver. "Where are we?"

"Some house somewhere. You ain't been at your house for a year. You know who I am?" Daryl asked, leaning over her again. _Please say yes,_ he thought desperately. As her amber eyes studied his face, he waited for an answer with bated breath.

"Of course I do, but you'll be no one important if you keep pinching me." A dull ache in her forehead started buzzing. "I have a headache. Did I drink that whole bottle of wine?"

Daryl exhaled in frustration. "There ain't no wine! We've been on the run. Remember?"

"The farm!" Liz exclaimed as a flash of reality came back to her. "Oh," she said, frowning as more memories knitted themselves together. "We don't have anywhere to live." She rubbed her head and winced when she found the bump. "At least tell me something cool happened to earn me this. Is everyone else okay? Where is everyone? Maggie?"

"They're fine. They're downstairs," Daryl replied. "Ya got knocked down the stairs. Hit your head pretty hard." He looked into her eyes again. The pools of amber blinked at him in response. "You were acting spooky for a while there. Didn't know if you could even see us. Seem better now."

Liz moved her head gingerly as the throbbing began and the dull ache turned into a full blown pain. "Do we need to move? Is the house secure?"

"It's secure as any. We can stay here a few days, maybe more."

"Hey," a soft voice from the door came. "Is she okay? Oh, you're awake!" Beth entered the room and stood at the bedside. "Daddy was real worried for a little while."

Liz offered a smile as Beth looked her over. "I'm okay," she groaned. "Just have a killer headache. A little foggy, that's all." Seeing the hesitation on her face, Liz added, "I remember you, Beth."

Beth nodded and a look of relief crossed her face. "Everyone's eating, Daryl, if you want to go down. I can sit with her." She pulled up a chair.

Daryl waved his hand. "Naw."

"Go eat," Liz urged, him, trying to shove him off the bed with one hand.

"I'll eat later," he replied. "Someone's got to be here when you fall asleep, and Beth ain' mean enough to pinch you."

A wave of fatigue sweeping over her, Liz fought to keep her eyes open. "Mm, this little girl's pretty mean."

Beth giggled. "Well, I'll go eat, but _then_ I'll come up and you can go." She paused when she reached the door. "Daryl- actually, let me ask you something in the hall."

Daryl glanced down at Liz. "You'd better be awake when I get back." He ignored her eye roll as he stepped into the hallway. "Yeah?" he looked at Beth expectantly.

"Daddy says she can't stay awake, and that's bad." She glanced into the room and bit her lip. "Make sure she doesn't fall asleep. She might not wake up. It's really important. Okay? Don't let her sleep. I don't want her to die." Her lip trembled as she spoke. "We lost too many already. Not Liz. Not like this."

 _Exactly,_ Daryl thought. Instead of saying so, he scowled at Beth and silently stormed back into the room and plopped down on the bed forcefully. "'m back."

"I'm up," Liz murmured. "I heard that. Ya'll think I'm dying. Survive the end of the world just to fall down the stairs and die." She laughed, then winced when her head pounded.

Daryl shook his head. He stretched his legs out on the bed and tucked his hands behind his head. "Naw, you ain't gonna die. We have a deal."

Liz couldn't recall what had happened that day, let alone any deals she'd made. "Deal?"

"I said I ain' gon put you down. If you die, I'm gon' have to. So don't." Daryl jostled around to get comfortable. "So I gotta keep you awake. Tell me your life story."

"Where do I start?" Liz replied softly, trying to soothe the pounding in her head. "It'll take forever."

Daryl nodded. "Exactly. Start talking."

*****

Glenn and Maggie were on guard duty, so there was no reason he couldn't sleep. Liz had made it through the vital first hours after her fall and during his third check-in, Hershel had been convinced there was no bleeding on her brain. She was sleeping now, curled on her side in the master suite bed, a small puddle of drool under her open mouth. When when she had rolled onto her side away from him, Daryl had gotten up and sat in the chair on the side of the bed to make sure he could see that she was breathing. Her memory was slightly spotty, and when she'd asked him where Shane was, he'd grown more concerned.

Daryl rubbed his eyes and looked at a clock on the wall that was miraculously still running on batteries. 3AM. Hershel had said to wake Liz up every hour or so, if he could, just to make sure she wasn't unconscious. Liz's hair was braided along the top of her head, but by now, the braids were fuzzy and falling out. Her face, like everyone's, had grown lean over the winter. Her earrings and nose ring sparkled in the dark; tiny reminders of her previous life. Daryl tried to imagine what the Arabic tattoo on the back of her neck meant, and made a mental note to ask her.

Somewhat reluctantly, he strode back to his side of the bed and got in, taking care to rouse her gently. "Hey," he whispered. "Liz. Hey."

Liz rolled over onto her back and grumbled.

Daryl shook her shoulder lightly. "C'mon. You know the drill," he said quietly. "Hershel's orders."

"Not dead," she mumbled, rolling toward him and nestling into his pillow. "Sleep."

Daryl moved to get out of bed and back in the chair so she could rest, but she opened an eye. "Where you goin'?" she asked.

"You need to sleep-"

Liz grabbed his hand. "I have been. _You_ should sleep. Stay." Her voice was a mix between a whine and a growl.

Daryl set to refuse her one more time, but Liz pulled his arm over her waist and tucked herself under his chin. She fell back asleep quickly and Daryl didn't have the heart to disturb her. Instead, he lie perfectly still and made sure to listen for her breathing long after she drifted off.

****

A walker's groaning jarred Liz from sleep. She held her breath and listened to where the sound was coming from. _How did it get in? How did it sneak past everyone sleeping downstairs?_

After a moment the growl rumbled through the room again. Liz all but laughed aloud at herself. Walkers hadn't gotten into the house; Daryl was in bed next to her snoring with the ferocity of a chainsaw. He was lying flat on his back, but his arm and leg were crossed over Liz's. She smiled and appreciated the fact that since staying in his tent at the farm, even after their connection on the highway, this was the closest they had been. She scooted closer to him, but he awoke with a start.

" _Shit,"_ he whispered to himself before freeing his arm and touching Liz's waist. "Liz," he grumbled. He looked out the window. Day was breaking. "Been asleep too long, hey! Get up."

"I'm awake, I'm fine," Liz replied. "I feel good. Headache is going away. If I had bleeding from the brain, I'd be dead by now. Go back to sleep."

Daryl stretched his arms and squeezed his eyes shut. To keep him from getting out of bed, Liz hooked one of his legs with hers. As she had become more aware of what was going on around her and the daze wore off through the night, she became both increasingly annoyed and endeared at Daryl's vigilance in watching over her.

"What're you doing?" Daryl yawned as she held onto his wrist.

"Getting comfy," Liz said innocently. "Night."

*****

When Maggie popped her head in to check on Liz at breakfast time, she beamed and quickly shut the door behind her. Liz was in Daryl's arms, sleeping with her head against his bare chest. He rested his head against hers and snored softly; both of them finally asleep and completely at ease.


	13. Traveler

"Liz! Liz! Look!"

Liz opened an eye and tried to assess the situation. No one was bleeding. No one was screaming. That warranted going back to sleep after Hershel and Daryl had tormented her and waken her from sleep every so often during the days after her fall down the stairs. "Later, Carl," she grumbled into the pillow.

"Come on." Carl pushed her door open and a series of footsteps on the floor caught the girl's attention. "This is Traveler," the boy said proudly as a German Shepherd snuffled at Liz's face.

"Where the heck did you find a dog?" Liz exclaimed, her exhaustion completely forgotten. "Hi, baby!" She ruffled the dog's ears and stuck her nose up against his. "Oh, you're beautiful."

"I'm glad you think so," Carl said with just as much enthusiasm. "He was just wandering around outside. I think he was looking for people. He's not even bloody or anything. I bet he's been catching animals, not eating the walkers." He beamed as the dog licked his hand. "He's hungry now. What can dogs eat? I never had one. Mom doesn't like them."

"He can eat a lot of things we can eat," Liz replied. "Traveler, huh? Fitting. Why don't we travel down to the kitchen and see if there's anything we can spare?"

***

" _No."_ T Dog stared in horror at Traveler, who was contentedly licking the juices from an empty can of Spam. "We ain't keepin' no dog in here. How we know that thing won't tear us up in the middle of the night?" He shook his head. "No, no, no."

"He's just a puppy," Liz replied, patting the empty space on the couch between her and Carl. Traveler jumped onto the cushion and immediately curled up with his nose under his tail. "He's such a good boy. He has to be trained already."

"That there's a police dog," Rick said as he entered the room. "I heard you two got yourselves a pet." He sighed and put his hands in his pockets. He looked weary, as usual these days. "Carl, you know we can't have another mouth to feed, especially a non-human one."

"It's not just me," Carl argued. "Liz wants him too." His eyes were wide as they pleaded with her. "Right?"

"Ah," Liz said. "I see why you got me involved in this. Needed me to team up against your dad, huh? Smart move." She winked at Carl, then turned to Rick. "How do you know he's a police dog?"

Rick barked out a command in German, and the dog immediately sat up at attention.

" _Whoa,"_ Liz and Carl breathed in unison.

"Just had a feeling. Acts like our K9s I worked with." Rick gave another command and the dog barked. A smile came to Rick's face; something that hadn't happened since the farm.

T groaned and shook his head. "C'mon, man. A dog? Ain't we got enough to worry about? Carl even said Lori don't like dogs. You gonna torment a pregnant lady with this killer?"

"Whose dog?" Daryl asked as he strode into the room.

"Ours," Carl said.

"Sweet," Daryl replied, scratching the dog behind the ears and giving him a piece of the jerky he was eating.

"Naw, man, not you, too." T made a sound of disgust. "You didn't strike me as a dog person."

"Had a retriever before all this," Daryl said. "Duke. Huntin' dog."

"What happened to him?" Carl asked apprehensively.

"Don't know," Daryl replied as he leaned against the doorknob and tore off another piece of jerky with his teeth. "Probably out there tearin' walkers apart."

"Let's focus, people," T said. "Time to set this dog loose. Bye, bye, Killer."

"No!" Carl and Liz protested at the same time.

"That dog's gotta earn its keep," Rick said warily. "You two want to keep him around, you'll have to take care of him. And you gotta keep him from bothering the ones who don't like animals." He turned to T-Dog. "Could come in handy. Company. Protection."

"Hunting," Daryl said. "I'm 'bout to go out now. I'll take the dog with me."

"Good. Leave him out there," T grumbled.

"C'mon, Mutt." Daryl patted his leg. "Time to go get us dinner."

"His name's Traveler," Liz called as the dog jumped up and trotted toward Daryl. "And be safe out there." She'd found it was easy to settle into a relationship with him. Though Daryl seemed hesitant, he hadn't fought off her affection for the most part. There was no formal recognition or announcement; just a quiet acceptance. Liz had been fine with that; she'd learned Daryl wasn't the chatty type.

"Traveler, got it," Daryl said. He gazed at Liz for a moment before leaving. He'd begun doing that after the herd attacked the farm. He suddenly understood the any moment could be their last, and he wanted to remember exactly what Liz looked like in case he got into trouble and didn't see her again.

"Daryl's good, but hopefully having the dog will cut time off of his hunts," Liz said hopefully.

"Cool," Carl said, sitting back and nodding in contentment. "No more school, _and_ I got a dog. Things are going okay."

*****

" _What is that thing?"_ Lori gasped, backing up against the kitchen cupboards that evening.

"It's a dog," Carol laughed. "Where did you come from?" She patted the dog as it trotted by, sniffing everyone.

"Yeah, where did it come from? How did it get in here?" Lori subconsciously held her large stomach and turned away from the dog, who was wagging its tail and looking up at her.

"I'm sure someone let it in," Carol scoffed. "Isn't that right, boy?"

"Mom! Mom! You already met Traveler." Carl bounded into the room and threw his arms around the dog's neck. "Dad said we can keep him if I take care of him. He went out hunting with Daryl and helped him catch a turkey! They're cleaning it now," the boy excitedly said. "We're gonna give Traveler some, since he helped and all."

"That's only fair," Carol agreed. She petted the dog before it left the room with Carl.

"Mom met Traveler. She didn't seem to like him," Carl reported to Liz and Daryl as he arrived on the porch with his new pet.

"Well he's sure earned his place, at least for tonight," Liz replied, grimacing and pulling out a clump of turkey feathers. She tried not to gag.

"Food don't come from no grocery store anymore," Daryl said, noticing the look of disgust on her face.

"I'm gonna find a ball or something we can play fetch with!" Carl exclaimed, bounding down off of the porch and into the yard with Traveler at his heels. The dog yipped happily; clearly ecstatic to be with living people again.

"Don't go too far," Liz called. "Stay where we can see you." She laughed when Carl turned and made a face at her. "Geeze. They said it takes a village to raise a kid and they weren't joking. Never thought I'd be nagging at someone else's kid."

"Rick's doin' fine by himself, far as Carl's concerned. He's a smart kid," Daryl replied. "Don' know about him watchin' a baby by himself, too."

"Don't say that!" Liz gasped. "Lori's had a hard time, what with being pregnant and Rick killing Shane. For all we know, she could be carrying my niece or nephew. I'm sure that's what's got her so mopey. I've tried to talk to her about it, but I can't figure out a tactful way to bring up Shane."

Daryl stopped plucking and stared at her. "And you're still friendly with her?"

Nodding, Liz replied, "I don't have too many options left for human contact. Cutting one off just because she cheated on her husband with my brother wouldn't be a smart move on my part."

Daryl nodded and ripped a handful of feathers from the bird. This was the first time in months Liz had brought Shane up. From what he'd seen, the girl hadn't cried a tear or lamented Shane's loss in the months they'd been on the run and he'd been dead. No one else noticed, but sometimes in the dead of night Liz would sit up and stare into the darkness, sighing every so often. Daryl never disturbed her, but instead kept her secret and pretended to sleep.

"I really am fine, you know," Liz said as she pulled a small feather from Daryl's hair.

"I know," Daryl replied genuinely. Liz didn't buy it.

"I _am,"_ Liz argued. _"_ I see how everyone looks at me if someone brings Shane up. Lori looks at me like she hates me. You and Rick look at me like you're expecting me to fall apart." Liz pursed her lips and tugged at a tuft of feathers. "Carol gives me this look of pity and T-Dog avoided me completely for a while. The Greene sisters and Glenn are the only ones who haven't treated me any differently.

"I ain't waitin' for you to fall apart."

Liz looked up and narrowed her eyes. "You sure?"

"'s the same look you gave me when we came back from Atlanta without Merle. Were you waitin' for me to break down?" Daryl stopped plucking the bird and looked at the girl. Her amber eyes were focused on his; she was the only person he'd ever met who wasn't afraid to make intense eye contact.

"I wasn't. I didn't really know you then, but I kept trying to think of a way to tell you I was around if you ever needed to talk to someone, or talk about something else. I didn't know _what_ to say."

"There you go," Daryl replied. "Maybe they're lookin' at you funny 'cause you forget you're famous."

Liz smiled and turned her attention to Carl and Traveler, who were both running around the open pasture across the drive. "Nah. I wasn't ever famous. I was just a Georgia girl out there in the big, strange world." She laughed as Traveler caught a stick from out of the air.

"Did you see that?" Carl called. "We're keeping him!"

A rustling from the nearby woods caught the dog's attention. Traveler barked and snarled, his ears back and fur on end. One walker stumbled out of the trees. It moaned and headed for the dog, who stood his ground and bared his teeth.

"Got it," Liz said, jumping up and grabbing her bow from the porch swing. She let an arrow loose and added the dead walker to her mental kill count. The smirk fell from her face as the dog continued to bark at the body. "What's the German word for 'quiet?'" she asked. "I can't remember what Rick said. The barking is going to bring in more of them."

"Shh, Traveler, quiet!" Carl said, tugging at the dog's collar. "C'mon, boy! Shh!"

A few yards behind him, more walkers emerged from the trees. Their grotesque faces were twisted into expressions of delight and hatred; their attention focused on the dog. Traveler snarled and charged at the walkers, tearing a leg from one and chomping down on another's arm.

"Get back here!" Daryl hollered to Carl.

"Traveler," Carl panted desperately. "Traveler, come on!" The dog darted off to rip at another walker's skirt hem.

"Carl!" Daryl yelled as he shot down three walkers dangerously close to the boy. " _Now!"_

"What's goin' on?" Rick called as he burst out the front door.

T-Dog was right behind him. "Shut that dog up!" he hissed as soon as he saw the small group lurching toward the house. "It's gonna be dark soon and we can't go back out there."

"Traveler!" Carl cried, ducking under a walker's arms. He reached the dog and got hold of his tail. "C'mon, boy! Now!"

"Carl!" Rick and Daryl called as they charged toward the group. Daryl went left and Rick went right – their hunting knives stabbing into walkers with lightning speed.

"Get back to the house," Rick growled as he caught Carl by the back of the jacket. "Now."

"Not without Traveler," Carl cried, reaching out for the dog again.

" _Now."  
_  
Carl hesitated, then ran back toward the porch. "Liz," he panted. "We have to get Traveler."

Liz pulled Carl up onto the porch and stepped in front of him. "I think we should be more worried about your dad and Daryl, yeah?" She watched at the dog continued to tear walkers apart, snarling and giving short barks every so often.

"I knew that dog was bad news," T said. "We ain't keeping that thing. Can't have it barking at these things and bringing more down on us." He shook his head. "Sorry, kid. We ain't keeping him. I don't care what your dad says."

Daryl tugged his knife free from a walker's skull and scanned the area. He kicked a walker to the ground and stomped its rotten skull. No matter how many of the monsters he killed, the crunch of bone under his boot always left him with a sick feeling in his gut. "Rick!" he called as a walker opened its jaw wide and lunged for Rick's neck.

Rick spun and caught the walker by the shoulders and Daryl handily sunk his blade into its temple.

"Thanks," Rick breathed.

Traveler started barking, stirred up into a frenzy over the remaining walkers. They turned and headed for the dog.

"Help him," Carl pleaded, tugging at Liz's arm so hard she wondered if he was slowly dislocating it, bit by bit.

"What the hell's going on out here?" Lori asked. "What's that dog-" she hesitated. "Oh, my god. Rick." She pulled out her pistol and took aim.

"Don't!" Liz exclaimed. "You could hit one of them."

"I'm going to hit the walkers. There are too many for them to handle," Lori replied shakily. She raised the gun and fired off a shot before Liz could stop her.

Carl cried out in horror as Traveler fell to the ground. Liz said nothing, but gave Lori a side-eye that could have killed. Lori raised the gun and popped off a few more shots. This time, the bullets found their marks.

"Jesus," Rick exclaimed as a bullet whizzed past his head. He dropped to the ground.

"What the fuck?" Daryl growled as he dropped until the gunfire stopped. He glanced around and saw all the walkers he been wiped out. He looked for the dog, and swore when he saw he'd been hit. He crawled over and touched the dog's head. He frowned back at Rick. "Ain' good."

Traveler was whining and panting in pain. He'd been hit in the chest. Blood dribbled from his muzzle, but he managed to thump his tail a few times when Daryl spoke.

"Carl!" Liz cried as the boy took off toward the dog. He hurdled walkers' bodies and collapsed at the dog's side. "Someone get Hershel! We have to save him!"

"Hershel's on his way," Liz said as she caught up to him. She knelt down next to Carl and stroked the dog's fur. Tears immediately filled her eyes. "I wouldn't count on Hershel being able to help, bud," she said softly.

Carl looked up at Rick. "You were supposed to protect him! He was one of us! Why didn't you protect him?" He stood up and ran back to the house, ignoring Hershel as they passed each other.

"I'll go after him," Rick said, frowning down at the dog and turning to leave.

The dog looked up as Hershel approached, but whined and let his head drop back down. All at once, Liz burst into full-blown sobs. She stroked Traveler's fur and rubbed his ears. "You're okay, baby. You're okay." When Hershel strode over, she moved over so he'd have room beside the dog.

"As I hear it, the dog got in the line of Lori's shot." Hershel said. He raised an eyebrow at Daryl, then turned his attention back for the dog.

"It's bad, huh?" Liz choked out. Tears streamed down her face and her lip quivered. She'd loved animals forever, and the dog had seemed like a sign of hope in the middle of their travels. Guilt washed over her when she realized she was crying harder for the dog than for any person they'd lost so far.

Hershel gave a slow, single nod. "Even with the proper equipment, this dog would have a tough go. He's in a lot of pain." He looked to Daryl, who nodded. "The only humane thing is to put him down, unfortunately. I wish there was another way."

"I'll do it," Daryl said gruffly. He pulled out his knife and sat it on the ground next to him.

Hershel put a hand on Liz's back as she cried. "Liz, we have to -"

"I know," Liz interrupted. She sniffled and took a deep breath. She bent down and pressed her lips to the dog's head. He whined and gave his tail a thump. "You're a good boy," Liz whispered. "I'm sorry." She sat up and nodded to Daryl.

"Get out of here," Daryl mumbled. "You don't need to-"

"I do." Liz stroked the dog's fur and leaned in again and whispered kind, gentle words as Daryl put the dog down.

Behind them, Carl gave a soft sob.

"Come here," Liz said. "Aren't you happy that he got to see nice people like us before he got hurt?"

Carl sobbed. "Everything good gets taken from us. Sophia. Traveler. It's not fair. We can't have anything good."

Daryl watched the tears roll down Liz's face and he hoped to God Carl was wrong.

 **Author's Note: I figured we'd spend a little time following the gang around during the winter they traveled between the farm and prison. Eight months is a long time... lots can happen!  
Also, sorry for the unfortunate animal death. I love dogs. I feel for Carl and Liz, big time. Life on the road is hard, even for the four-legged friends. :( **


	14. Keep Your Shirt On

It was exactly what Liz had been waiting for all winter. It was a maroon two door pickup that looked like a hell of a lot of fun to tear around in. Liz searched for a key inside the cab, inside the garage, and inside the vacant country home the group had been staying in, but the hunt turned up nothing. She reluctantly made her way to Daryl, who was cleaning a gun Beth had dropped in the mud during their most recent scuffle with a herd of walkers. "I need to learn how to hot wire a car," Liz stated.

"Right this second?" Daryl replied, shaking a glob of mob off of his fingers.

"Well, no, but before we move on. There's a pickup out front I want."

Daryl looked up at her. "Why? We've got enough vehicles."

"If it's raining and we can't ride, we'll need a way to haul the bike. Besides, I'm not asking permission. I'm asking for your help. I don't think anyone else here can hot-wire a car."

"You that tired of riding with me? You can ride in a car if you want." Daryl rolled up a blade of grass and stuck it up the barrel. The blade came out covered in mud. Daryl groaned in annoyance and sat the gun down on the wicker bench next to him.

"Either you show me how to start that truck or you show me how to ride the bike. What if you get hurt and can't ride?"

"I ain't riding bitch is what," Daryl growled as he wiped his muddy hands on his jeans. "Fine. We'll hot wire it tonight. You can't lift the bike. Maybe if we find a smaller one you can learn."

Liz's face lit up and she smirked in triumph. "Thanks. I always wanted a pickup."

"You don' strike me as a truck girl." He studied her, then grinned. "Ain' gonna be the same on the bike alone now. Got used to using you for a back rest." Daryl smirked up at her.

Liz wrinkled her nose. "You're such a charmer. I was planning on having someone else drive the truck when we don't need it. I'd hate to leave my spot on the bike open. That's a good way to lose a man."

A month ago her comment would have left him flustered and bright red, so Daryl mentally chalked one up for himself. He snorted. "Who else gonna jump on?"

"I've got my eye on Beth. Us old broads always seem to get replaced by these young bitches. One minute you're hot stuff, then the next, the young girl's got a perkier rack than you." She tried to give him an accusatory look, but cracked herself up. "I'm not worried yet. I've got some time. She's not 18 yet."

"Shut up. You're a pain in the ass." Daryl shook his head and plucked out a few more feathers.

"I'm your pain in the ass." Liz laughed aloud when she realized how that sounded.

Daryl grinned and nodded toward the house. "I'll be in in a bit. Better go keep Beth at bay. I'm fightin' them women off like walkers."

"Hate to say I told you so, but,"

"Shut up." Daryl hoisted himself into the passenger seat of the pickup a few days later and pulled the door shut with a bang. The bike was tied down in the back; Daryl unable to ride because of a badly sprained ankle. He'd gotten it when Beth accidentally knocked him over a fence. He'd tried hobbling around on it until Liz and Rick literally held him down and had Hershel look at it.

The survivors were moving out; in search of another farmhouse. This one had been easy to secure, but was just too small for the size of their group. It was the same story they'd been living all winter. A house would do for a week or so before it was time to move on and find more food, more space, more security. IT was exhausting, but they hadn't lost anyone since they'd left the farm.

Liz had hot-wired the truck as Daryl had shown her. When the engine turned over, she shimmied in her seat. "Yes!" Her celebration stopped abruptly when the CD player began blaring a familiar song.

"Damn, girl, I forgot how good you sound," Daryl said, smirking as Liz fumbled to eject the Liz Clarke CD.

"Oh, weird. Absolutely not. No," Liz exclaimed in embarrassment. "I thought I'd never have to hear myself again. Ugh!" She mashed at the stereo buttons blindly. Once the stereo spit out her CD, she rolled down the window in order to fling the CD into the yard.

"Hey," Daryl said, snatching the CD from her grip. "I'm keepin' that." He found the case in the console, and popped it into his vest pocket.

"Why?" Liz whined.

"You never sing anymore." Daryl shrugged. "At least now we got proof you used to."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Haven't really had a good opportunity to bust out in song, you know?" She followed in line as the vehicles began to roll down the driveway and back on the road. A walker stumbled out of a treeline and bounced off the pickup. Liz slowed and contemplated getting out and destroying it. One less walker in the world was one less chance of getting her throat bitten out.

"Keep drivin'," Daryl drawled in a bored tone. "Ain' worth gettin' killed over one walker."

"How'd you know-"

"I know how you think." Daryl closed his eyes. "Wake me up if you run into trouble."

****  
"Lookie what we got here," Maggie sang out, holding up a bottle of pink wine. She shook it and shimmied her shoulders. "Looks like we're having a girls night! Sorry, Lori," she added, glancing at Lori's swollen stomach.

Lori smiled and held up a small tub. "That's all right. I've got Nutella."

"Girls night?" Beth chimed from the other side of the kitchen.

"Not for you, either. You aren't old enough," Maggie said. "Sorry. You know what Daddy would say 'bout you drinkin'."

Beth's face fell and she turned back to the cabinet she was sorting through. "I'll just enjoy my," she pulled out a can and read the label. "Green beans." Her face fell further and Maggie and Liz laughed.

Rick poked his head in the kitchen. "Everything all right?"

"Sure thing," Maggie answered.

The awkwardness settled in the air. Rick and Lori's relationship was strained, for whatever number of reasons anyone could speculate. The group treated Lori well and treated Rick well, but no one dared push the issue of their marriage.

"Aha!" Maggie pulled out a second and third bottle of wine. "Two more! Me and Liz are going to have us a little girls night once things get settled and secured." Maggie dumped some old orange juice and apple sauce down the drain. "Not too much else was in the fridge. Lots of cans, though. Good pick, this one. Good intuition, Rick."

Rick nodded and left the kitchen. Lori acted like she hadn't seen him.

"So," Beth said, obviously trying to break the silence. "You're sure I can't have any wine? There's enough."

"No. Daddy would kill me. You're just a baby." Maggie gathered the bottles up in her hands and turned toward Liz. "Come on, girl. It's getting late. Let's grab Carol and see if she's interested."

Carol's cheeks were pink and her eyes were sparkling. "I did once. I was there to bring Ed back home. He wasn't at the bar, so _of course_ he was at the strip club. They thought I was I lesbian!" She giggled. "I know. It's the hair." She rubbed her head and laughed. "Anyway, Ed thought I was there as a special treat for him, so I just went along with it."

"No!" Liz and Maggie giggled. The three women had gathered in an upstairs bedroom with their individual bottles of wine, which were all nearly empty. Beth and Lori had opted to stay downstairs and keep Carl company.

Carol nodded proudly. "I was up on the stage with those strippers and I just went with it. It was early on in our marriage, so I was a lot younger and these were a lot peppier," she explained, grabbing her breasts in her hands. "Enjoy your youth, ladies. Goes quick!" She took another swig of wine and smacked her lips.

"You're still young," Liz scoffed. "You're one of us. You're at girls night. Only us young gals do girls nights." She knew her speech was slurred, but she took another sip straight from the bottle and savored the taste.

"Yeah!" Maggie agreed, finishing her glass. "At this point, if you're alive, you're doing pretty well. We're all in the same boat, sister."

Carol crossed her arms across her chest and pouted. "Well being young doesn't help when you've all snapped up the good men!" She laughed. "I don't mean that. I mean, I _do_ mean it, but I'm glad!" She laughed. "I haven't drank this much in such a long time!"

"Hey, I'll share Glenn with you, if you want!" Maggie giggled and poured another glass to the brim. "You can have him when he's got awful morning breath and snores all night."

"No, no, that's okay. I'd rather share Daryl!" Carol giggled and put her hand in front of her mouth. "Don't tell! Don't be mad, Liz. You know he's a good one. What a good man," she added dreamily.

"Geeze," Liz exclaimed. "You, too? Beth told me she had her eye on him, too, back at the farm!" She laughed. "I ain't as generous as Maggie. I ain't sharing. It took a long time for him to say more than two words to me."

"So what's he like in bed?" Maggie asked. "Moody? Quiet? Bossy?" She sat cross-legged and stared intensely at Liz. "Glenn's plenty good, but he doesn't have arms like Daryl's."

"Ooh, yes, details," Carol cooed, leaning in and staring at Liz. "Tell us everything. What's he like?"

Liz waved her hand. "There's been none of _that."_ Her cheeks suddenly felt a little warmer. "We've been busy with the whole walker situation."

"No!" Carol exclaimed. "I don't believe that. Daryl's a hot-blooded American man! You're a bombshell! It's girls night. You can't withhold girl talk! _Talk!_ "

"Really," Liz insisted. "Daryl's a gentleman." She smiled. "Besides, he's always hunting or fixing things and I'm always-" she shrugged. "Waiting around wishing he'd come back."

"Ugh!" Carol sighed. "I'm disappointed in you!"

"But he's sweet!" Liz continued. "Well, maybe not in the rom-com way, but he's really very sweet." She giggled. "Like on the farm when he moved me into his tent? He didn't even make a move on me!"

"Come on, girl, you go get some of that. Ain't he your man?" Maggie grinned wolfishly. "I know what I'm doing once this here wine's gone." She wiggled her eyebrows. "I'm gonna need Glenn, gonna need this bedroom and you're gonna need some earplugs." She laughed loudly and held her sides.

"Your father is in the house!" Carol gasped. "And Beth! You've got way more to lose than this one." She jerked her head towards Liz. "We've gotta get her laid. Tonight!" She clapped her hands together. "We'll get Daryl up here."

"Because that's not totally obvious," Liz giggled. She finished her bottle of pink wine and set it down on the floor with a _clunk._ "I'm going to be sloppy. Too much wine. What a great first time."

"Second time," Maggie corrected. "You've heard the rumor mill. You did it at the CDC."

Liz rolled her head back and closed her eyes. "Ugh, I don't even remember. But those arms, though."

"Yes!" Carol cheered. "You have to do this so we can live vicariously through you." She finished her own wine and cleared her throat. "So let's get a game plan."

"I was hoping to lure you out here," Liz said seductively twenty minutes later, swinging her legs from the tailgate of her pickup as Daryl strode toward her. Things had gone according to plan. She had snuck out to her pickup with a blanket to spread in the bed. Fortunately the truck was already parked at the edge of the property, so she hadn't had to hot-wire it by herself. Carol had told Daryl that Liz needed his help with something unimportant and he'd immediately left to find her.

"I was hopin' you weren' dead somewhere." He set his bow down in the bed of the pick up and joined her on the tailgate. "I doubt anyone's gon' steal this thing. What- you guardin' it?" He smirked. "I thought it was girls night. Carol's lit."

"Yeah, we had girls night," Liz replied. "All good things must come to an end." She giggled. "Actually, the wine ran out."

"What do you need help with?"

"Just something I've been wanting to do for a while. You know." Her mind was a little fuzzy and the cogs weren't spinning fast enough to spit out clever responses.

"Yeah?" Daryl asked, giving her a puzzled look. "Right now? In the middle of the night? What is it?"

"You." Liz straddled Daryl and pushed him back so he was on his back in the bed of the pickup.

"Stop," Daryl snapped. "You're drunk."

"Only a little," Liz replied, unbuttoning her shirt and pulling off her tank top. She hesitated when she saw his angry expression. "Since T told us about the CDC, I've wondered, or wanted," she trailed off and wondered why he was making that face at her. "Let's do this." She dropped her gun belt and regular belt onto her shirts.

Daryl touched her ribs and traced one of her black tattoos with his middle finger. He wondered briefly if anyone would stumble upon them, or if anyone was standing guard against walkers. True, Liz didn't seem completely incapacitated like they'd been at the CDC, but he knew he'd feel guilty even touching her while she was under the influence. The thoughts quickly crumbled as he further took in Liz's bare abdomen. Her skin was porcelain in the moonlight, only black tattoos and her black lace bra marring it. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "You ain' gotta-"

"Stop," Liz mimicked him. "Are you gonna fuck me or not?" She shimmied back and forth slowly. "I used to be a pretty hot commodity, you know. I had people writing me letters asking me out every single day."

"I know," Daryl replied. "That's why I haven't-"

Liz laughed. "And here I'm begging and you won't have me. I literally just told Maggie and Carol that you're such a gentleman. I should have known!"

"That don't mean I don't _want_ to-"

"Do something about it," Liz interrupted again hopefully. The wine made her mind a puddle of mush. Her filter had diminished and she figured it was now or never. She had wanted Daryl for a long time and was baffled as to why he acted like she was repulsive. "Why you so – whatever- around me? I sleep next to you and I've stayed in your tent and I press my tits against you on the bike on purpose and I've been waiting and _waiting_ for you to pull me away from everyone and fuck me." She grabbed his hands and pressed them against her breasts. "I don't know how much more obvious I can make it!" She bit her lip and smiled down at him. "Daryl Dixon. Please. I want you."

"Naw, you're drunk." Daryl pulled his hands back, but Liz caught them and held them against her again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A thin line kept him from flipping her onto her back and having his way with her.

Of course he'd thought about it; he just never expected her to come pawing at him in the middle of the night. From the moment he'd given her shelter from Shane in his tent, he'd noticed everything about her. The way she smelled like vanilla, the freckles on her shoulders and nose, her bubbly laugh, her swirling black tattoos, the way she grinned with the left side of her mouth when she was being sarcastic – he acknowledged that all of these pieces had absolutely captivated him. He'd fallen in love with each little quirk that made her different from the rest of the group. Her perspective. Her sense of humor. Her sassiness. Her determination. Of course he loved those individual things. Yet the thought of being in love with the woman as a whole terrified him. Loving someone in this new world was dangerous. It would leave him vulnerable. _Yet it's the truth_ , he realized with a slight pang of annoyance. He was in love with Liz. Not Liz Clarke from the centerfolds, but Liz, the girl who welcomed herself to food from his plate without asking, the girl who woke up with hair that rivaled Amy Winehouse's, the girl who he'd taught archery to and who looked at him with those amber eyes that made him want to do his life over and do better.

Over the months he'd done everything in his power to prove to her that he found _her_ breathtaking, celebrity be damned. Though she didn't have an overabundance of options for men in her life, Daryl worried that if he fucked her, she'd second guess his intentions as wanting to bed her for the sake of bedding Liz Clarke the pop star. Liz's drunk giggle pulled Daryl out of his thoughts.

"Take your shirt off," Liz demanded, reaching down and fumbling with the buttons. She pulled his button-down open and ran her hands over his abdomen. "Every time you took your shirt off in the tent, I wanted to touch you so _bad!"_ She giggled as she touched his individual abs.

"Don't think you're the only one," Daryl mumbled, letting his hands rest on the top of her thighs.

"God, Daryl." Liz leaned down and kissed him, letting her hands support her as she bent over his body.

This time, Daryl kissed her back willingly and eagerly. His hands found the small of her back as their mouths hungrily searched the other's. Liz dragged her hand down the length of Daryl's body and let it rest at the bulge in the crotch of his jeans.

"Nuh-uh," Daryl mumbled into her mouth, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away. "Knock it off. I said I ain't doing this when you're drunk."

Liz began to protest, but snapped her mouth shut as the moans of walkers echoed across the yard. She looked over the side of the truck and gasped. A small herd of about twenty walkers was staggering toward the them.

"Fuck," Daryl spat as Liz clambered off of him onto her knees. She handed Daryl his crossbow and fumbled with her gun belt. "Gimme that," Daryl growled, taking her pistol and tucking it into his own waistband. "Gonna get yourself killed. Get in the cab. Lock the doors."

Begrudgingly, Liz obeyed. Though she wanted to help she knew she was too drunk to safely fight the walkers off. "Be safe," she called as Daryl crept toward the herd. She winced and clapped a hand over her mouth. _Stay inside the next night you get drunk on wine,_ she thought with regret.

Daryl paused as the walkers drew nearer. They didn't seem to see him, and were heading away from the house. He raised his crossbow and tried to decide which walkers to take out. The old woman? The young boy? The construction worker? Snarling, Daryl lowered his bow and jogged back to the pickup.

Liz unlocked the door and Daryl got in. "What're you doing?" she whispered, reaching out and touching his shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

"No. They might pass us by. I can't take on that many by myself at once. No time to get help. Gonna stick it out in here," he replied quietly. He felt himself hold his breath as the walkers split around the car. Some of them bumped into and bounced off of the car before passing by. Liz's grip on his shoulder tightened and he reached up and squeezed her hand.

One of the last walkers marched straight into the car, but instead of turning and going around like its cohorts, it paused and peered into the truck. Seeing the humans inside, it unleashed a snarl and scratched at the window. Liz recoiled at the bones poking out at the ends of the flesh of his fingers. A few of the walkers near the bumper turned and snarled.

"Shit," Daryl mumbled. He reached down and cranked the window down slightly. The walker reached in and tried to pull the window down further, but Daryl struck out with his hunting knife. Blood sprayed out as he pulled the knife from the walker's skull. A slow squeak broke the silence as the corpse slide down the truck door. The others near the bumper turned after an excruciatingly long moment and fell back in step with the rest.

When the herd was a few hundred yards past them, Daryl let out his breath. "That could have been bad."

Liz nodded. Her heart was hammering in her chest. "Let's go back to the house." She opened the truck door and stepped out.

"Liz?" Daryl called softly.

She turned. "Yeah?"

Daryl raised an eyebrow at her. "Maybe you should put a shirt on."


	15. Ink

Winter was crawling by slowly, but the days were somehow passing quickly. Another day, another home secured. This time, the survivors had found an old plantation house still completely in tact. No broken windows, no kicked-in doors. It sat back from the road and seemed like a great place to camp out and, perhaps more importantly after being crammed together in living rooms for months, spread out.

Carl and Beth darted in and out of rooms, in awe of the splendor and the sheer size of it. "Dibs!" they each called.

"Must have been some millionaire's pad, you think?" Glenn asked as he and Maggie tossed their bags into a room across the hall.

"Had to have been," Daryl replied. "Can't wait to check out the kitchen."

"There's a whole lot of berry bushes out back, too!" Liz added. "This'll be a nice place to hole up for a while." She quickly knocked on the trim of a door three times. " _Knock on wood,_ " she added cautiously. She handed Daryl her bag and he tossed it onto the bed with his.

"For real," he commented, "who needs a mansion? Someone really have twenty people over all at once? Rich people are pricks."

"You'd be surprised," Liz added. When Daryl's face distorted in realization that she'd been rich once, she laughed at him. "I never had a mansion, thank you very much. I had a cute little two-bedroom house in California, and I stayed with Shane or my parents when I came back to Georgia."

"Forgot you-"

"Me too, most of the time," Liz laughed. "Hasn't helped me a bit during this whole walker thing. Should have been an assassin."

***  
The kitchen was hilariously large, in Liz's opinion. It could serve as a restaurant kitchen, or a set for a cooking show. There were two large pantries on either side of the room, and cupboards all the way in between. Some were filled with dishes, pots, and pans, but the rest were stocked with food.

Daryl grinned and started pulling cans and packages and sliding them across the counter. "You for real?" he exclaimed. "Look at all this." Canned goods, unopened packages of crackers and fruit snacks, and bottles of Gatorade and orange juice piled up. He spun and grabbed Liz by the hips and picked her up. "This is the jackpot! Booyah!"

Liz laughed and held on to Daryl's shoulders. "I don't think I've ever seen you so happy."

"You ain't never seen me when I wasn't hungry," he chuckled. Daryl set Liz back down and returned his attention to the pantry. "Here's some of that chocolate stuff Lori likes." He pulled more food down. "Hunt a few times a week to get meat, and we'll be set."

"There's plenty here. Let's have a full on feast tonight," Liz decided. Daryl's enthusiasm was spreading. How long _had_ it been since they'd had enough food that everyone had their own can? Now there was more than enough to last a month and maybe even put some meat back on their bones. "I'm gonna round up Maggie and Carol and we'll get some of this going!" She giggled. "Oh, my god. You're right. I'm so hungry." She grabbed Daryl and kissed him briefly. "It's a good day." She gave his arm a squeeze and flashed him a smile before leaving to find the others.

"Yes it is," Daryl replied as Liz trotted out of the room. He grinned and murmured, "Yes, it is."

The long dining table was filled with bowls of vegetables, a pot of macaroni and cheese, plates of crackers, fresh berries, and cooked meat from a deer Daryl had hunted that afternoon. Laughter lilted to the high ceiling, and a rare joyous aura hung over the group as they ate.

"So what are we going to call this place?" Beth asked as she put a piece of deer meat on a cracker and popped it into her mouth. "Every good place needs a name," she said as she chewed.

"Fort Walker," Carl suggested.

"The Walker Plantation," Beth replied.

"I ain't living on no plantation," T Dog scoffed. "Nuh uh."

"How about The Manor?" Maggie tried as she reached for more creamed corn. "Stately. Safe."

"Yeah," Beth cooed. "That's perfect. That's what I'll call it when I write about it. The Manor," she sighed romantically. "It's the perfect setting for the rest of our lives."

Glenn grinned. "Never thought I'd live in a manor. I must have missed the caviar."

" _The_ Manor," Carl added. Lori gave him a look, but he ignored her.

"I think we all have a lot to be thankful today," Hershel said. "If Rick wouldn't have seen this place, we'd have missed it completely." He nodded his head at their leader, and raised a glass. "To Rick."

"Naw," Rick said, shaking his head as everyone raised their glasses and toasted to him. "Someone else would have spotted it." He spooned himself more macaroni and finished his bottle of Powerade. "We'll need to ration out food in the morning."

"Can't we just enjoy it while we have it?" Lori asked quietly, not daring to make eye contact with Rick. "Carl's a growing boy."

"Best to make it last," Hershel answered kindly. "Better to spread it out than to gorge ourselves for a few days, then go hungry again."

Lori fell silent and stared at her plate.

"That don't mean nothin' for tonight," Rick said to her. "Have some more. You need to eat." He held out the plate of deer meat to her. "For the baby."

Lori nodded and took another strip of meat. "Right."

"Too bad there wasn't any wine," Carol sighed. "That would have made this the perfect meal."

"Last time you had wine, you stood on the coffee table in the living room while everyone was trying to sleep and kept singing Liz's songs," Glenn chuckled. "It's funny now, but it wasn't so funny then."

Carol blushed. "You looked like you needed entertained," she added as everyone laughed at the memory.

Daryl and Liz exchanged a brief, sheepish glance. They'd missed the performance as they were fooling around in the back of Liz's pickup before a herd of walkers wandered through and interrupted.

"She was pretty good," Beth giggled. She turned to Liz with wide, excited eyes. "Maybe we'll be your back-up singers. We'll start a band."

"Liz Clarke and the End of the World-ettes," Glenn said in an announcer voice.

"Stop," Liz said bashfully. "Eat your food. Leave me out of this. Let Beth be the singer She don't need me.." She popped a handful of berries into her mouth.

"So I suppose it'd really embarrass you if I told them what we used to play when we were kids, huh?" Rick suddenly chimed in, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Rick. No," Liz commanded, pointing her finger at him. "I know what you're thinking. Keep your mouth shut or it's not just walkers you'll have to worry about." A thousand memories of growing up with Rick flashed through her head, and she didn't want the group to know about any of them.

"Ten year old Lizzy would-"

"No!" Liz cried. "Rick!"

"Shh," Daryl said, "I wanna hear this."

"I know this story," Carl said, a smirk on his face.

"You better not tell it," Liz said. "I'm gonna give you a swirlie."

"Toilets don't work," Carl replied. "Ha!"

Rick pulled out his authoritative sheriff voice to squash the chatter. "Little Lizzy would put on these little concerts for the neighborhood kids. She'd get up on the picnic tables at the local park and pretend it was a stage," he said, trying not to laugh as Liz buried her face in her hands. "But she'd only do it on one condition: she made me and Shane act like her bodyguards. Once some red-headed kid had a crush on her and she just hated him, so,"

"Jordan Smith," Liz added. "He was the worst. Ugh. Still hate him."

"So she stopped her song and demanded that we take him away the second he showed up," Rick chuckled. "The worst part is that we roughed up poor Jordan because we were having so much fun being bodyguards. All the kid did was show up!"

"I wonder how if he tells that story now," Carol laughed.

"Probably," Liz giggled. "Shane knocked one of the kid's baby teeth out! His mom came over to our house that night and our parents grounded us for so long."

"They even grounded me. And that was the end of Liz Walsh's performing days at the park," Rick replied. He popped another piece of meat in his mouth and sat back, satisfied with his contribution.

"Ah, shit!" Daryl exclaimed. "Walsh _is_ your last name, ain't it?"

Raising an eyebrow, Liz replied, "You don't know my name?"

"Uh oh," Maggie sang out. "Didn't you let her stay in your tent back at the farm? Ain't you two a thing? And you don't know her name? Do you even _know t_ his strange woman next to you?" She elbowed Daryl in the side. "I'm kiddin'."

Liz laughed. "Well, he's the only one who didn't call me 'Hey, it's Liz Clarke' the first time he met me."

Daryl smiled. "Everyone else had already told me that 'Hey, it's Liz Clarke.' I think Glenn ran around to everyone's tent sayin' that."

Glenn stared at his lima beans. "I delivered pizzas before this. I'd never met anyone famous. It was the most exciting thing that had happened to me up until that point! I'd have given anything to talk to you without getting tongue tied." He held his hands up and shrugged at Maggie. "Hey, honesty is the best policy, right? This was way before we got to the farm."

"Should have done what I did," Daryl replied. "I just ignored her 'cause I knew I'd make an ass of myself."

Everyone laughed again and finished dinner, continuing to tell stories and enjoy the company and food.

***  
Darkness fell quickly, but Daryl found old half-burned candles in one of the numerous hallways closets. He lit them on the dresser, kicked off his boots, and laid back on the bed, surprised at how strange it felt to rest on a bed after months of sleeping on the floor, recliners, and pull-out couches. A knock came and the door, and he opted against getting up to answer it. "Yup."  
Liz spilled in. "Sorry. Couldn't remember where we were, and didn't want to barge in on Glenn and Maggie – again. I've seen more of both of them than I ever wanted to see. Did you know Maggie has a tramp stamp? I'm assuming Hershel doesn't know about it," he added.

"How many tattoos you got, anyway?" Daryl asked as Liz pulled off her boots and dug through her bag for a pair of sweatpants to sleep in.

"Ah, five? Six?" Liz sat down on the bed and rolled up her sleeve. "Got this when I was eighteen," she said, pointing to a compass on her wrist. "Thought it was so cool." She pulled her hair back and touched the back of her neck. "Arabic for 'be strong.' Then here behind the ear? Arrows."

"Fitting," he replied, "seein' as you're an archer now."

"Weird, huh?" Liz asked. "I'm no archer, but I happen to know a pretty good one." She grinned, then said, "Now come the secret tattoos."

"I've seen them all," Daryl replied flatly.

"I guess everyone's seen them all, huh?" She made a face. "Thanks a lot, GQ. Well, fine, since it's not a secret." She pulled off her shirt and turned. "Left side. Constellations all swirled together. Orion's Belt. Scorpius. Polaris and the Big Dipper." Liz turned, and noticed Daryl's eyes were glued to her body. "Right side? My dream catcher, then this sweet thunderstorm. Too bad they're so close together. Looks weird."

"Looks perfect," Daryl muttered. He touched the dream catcher. "Hurt?"

"Hurt like hell. Worst decision I've ever made in my life." Liz pulled up the fabric on the side of her bra and looked at the ink. "Maybe not. I love it. Okay, it was worth it." She turned and looked at Daryl. "Let's see yours. You know the rules. I showed you mine." She winked.

"You've seen mine," he replied.

"Yeah, but I don't know the stories. What do they mean?"

"That ain' fair," Daryl said. "You didn't say what any of yours meant. I could see _what_ they are."

"You just learned my name. I can't go sharing all of my secrets in one night." Liz reached out for his shirt. "Shirt off. Tell me."

"Get out of here," Daryl laughed, squirming away from her grasp.

"Show me!" Liz giggled as she snagged a handful of his shirt and tugged at it.

Daryl let Liz pull off his shirt, then grabbed her hips and pulled her onto him. She was still laughing when he pressed his lips to her collarbone. The shock of his warm breath on her skin sent a tingling sensation through her body and she gasped in surprise.

Her skin was warm under Daryl's lips. The months of waiting had made this worth it. No longer did doubt seep in when he watched her from across a room. Liz loved him. He could _feel_ it. Whether it was the constant danger they faced, the small pool of eligible suitors, or some other reason Daryl couldn't discern, Liz had definitely chosen him. Had he stood a chance against her advances? Maybe not, but he was pleased with the arrangement.

"Mmm," Liz moaned softly as he worked his way to her shoulder, peppering kisses and soft nips along the way. Her bra strap slipped down her arm. Anticipation rolled over her in waves; an electric buzz hummed in her hands and breasts. She rolled her head back and closed her eyes. "How have we not done this?" she breathed.

"We have," Daryl replied. "The CDC." He explored the side of her throat with his lips once more and felt a sense of accomplishment when he felt goosebumps rise along her skin. His hands were on her back, and he let them drop to her ass. At long last, he thought, he would slide off those damn cut-off shorts that had tortured him all summer. He pulled Liz closer against him and felt himself pressing against the denim of his jeans uncomfortably.

"It's a damn shame I don't remember," Liz said breathily.

"Mmm." Daryl reached around and unhooked her bra. He noticed it was the same lacy black one she'd worn out in the bed of the pickup. As it fell aside, he pulled back and looked at her, his eyes half-lidded in desire.

Liz took the opportunity to unbuckle Daryl's belt and throw it to the floor. Her hand brushed across his bulge and she bit her lip as another wave of desire hit her. She nodded her appreciation as Daryl slid his jeans off. A blush rose in Liz's cheeks as she studied his body. She'd been with men before, but none, not even the movie stars who worked with personal trainers on a regular basis, had looked like him. Daryl's abs were dangerously sculpted and his muscles seemed to point down to his erect manhood. "God bless Georgia," she mumbled as she reached to pull off her shorts.

Daryl shook his head. "Let me." He slid the shorts down slowly, letting his fingers caress her legs. When the cutoffs had joined his jeans on the floor, he took a deep breath. As candlelight danced across the room, Liz's porcelain skin seemed to glow. Everything about her was perfect. He pang of some mushy emotion in his chest, but it was quickly replaced by the strong lust he'd barely been able to control. "Jesus. You're-" he trailed off and took in her body.

"Not what you expected?" Liz breathed, hoping he wasn't disappointed. Suddenly self-conscious, she crossed her arms loosely to cover breasts. "I mean, they airbrush all of the photos at the shoots I -"

"You're perfect," Daryl cut her off. He pulled her onto his lap and laid back, his hands lingering gently at her hips. He wanted to roll her over and make her scream his name, but it had been a long time since he'd been with a woman and he worried that he'd hurt her. Liz wasn't a stick, by any means, but she certainly wasn't as strong as him.

As if reading his mind, Liz smirked. "Think you're gonna break me?"

"Don't want to-"

"Take me." Liz reached down and tried to pin his arms above his head. He resisted and instead, snatched her wrists and held her. "I can handle you," Liz said flirtatiously. "After all, you've told me a dozen times that you trust that I can handle myself because you trained me." She bent and sucked at his bottom lip. "So give me the full experience."

In a flash, Daryl firmly flipped Liz onto her back and entered her. "Yeah?" he breathed as he pushed into her. "That how you want it?" He studied her facial expression and determined she was enjoying herself as much as he was.

Liz's legs trembled and she gasped for a breath. " _Yes!"_ she hissed. She wrapped her arms around to his back and sank her nails into his skin. Daryl moaned and began to thrust harder. Liz tipped her hips upward and moaned again as he slid into her deeper. "Fuck, _fuck,"_ she cried. "Daryl. Ah, Daryl!"

Daryl closed his eyes and felt the thoughts clear from his mind. Liz felt incredible around him and under him. She was slowly, inadvertently dragging her nails down his back and the sting was a perfect contrast to her wetness. He kissed her neck again as she moaned his name and bucked her hips against his.

When Liz came, she trembled and began to laugh – the giggles bounced around the room and crashed off the walls, breaking the silence.

"What's so funny?" Daryl growled in her ear. A moment later, her tightness ended him as well. He remained inside of her for a moment before sighing in delight and collapsing next to her.

Liz immediately pulled his arm over her waist and she stared at him dreamily. "One of my girlfriends said something before I left California and it came true." She brushed her hair back from her sweaty forehead and smiled at Daryl, who was equally as sweaty and disheveled.

"And?"

"I told her I was coming home to find me a good Georgia man, and she laughed and said it would happen when the dead rose."

Daryl laughed and pulled her against him and kissed the top of her head. For the first time in a long time, the undead outside were the last thing on his mind.


	16. Walls

For what seemed like the umpteenth time in a row, Daryl startled awake and lunged for his crossbow. His eyes scanned his surroundings and he quickly realized why he'd jolted awake. Liz, who was curled up next to him on a concrete stair landing, was stretching in her sleep. Her freckled arms reached out from under his poncho she was wearing and brushed over his stomach. Daryl shifted his weight on the floor to get comfortable again. The silence had taken a while to get used to, since their normal habitat was anywhere they could hole up while walkers snarled outside.

Rick's group had stumbled upon a prison and cleared a block for themselves. Spirits were soaring at the thought that they'd have an actual home and a place to stay. Daryl didn't dare get his hopes up, but he enjoyed the cheer among the group. As the winter had dragged on, more assorted mishaps and shortfalls had worn on the group morale. The prison was a large victory that they'd desperately needed.

T-Dog's snoring caught Daryl's attention. He listened to the steady rumbling and grinned when a soft female voice joined in the night symphony. T-Dog snored. Beth talked in her sleep. Liz occasionally thrashed to get more comfortable. Carl hadn't sleepwalked for some time, thank god. Daryl closed his eyes. Everything was well for another night, at least.

* * *

Liz scowled at Daryl and crossed her arms. "I'm going." The winter on the run had changed her. Her face was hard and weathered and she looked more like her dead brother Shane than anyone cared to admit. Her black hair had grown long and unruly. She'd tried to twist it into dreadlocks, but instead had ended up with a giant mane she tied back with a black bandana. Her muscles had grown and she was long and lean. Her tattoos were often covered in dirt and grime, but she hadn't worried about trivial things like that for months.

Liz often slept with Daryl on the stair landing, but enjoyed having her own cell and cot. The pair had grown inseparably close, yet both often wandered off to find their own space. This morning the group was acting like they weren't witnessing yet another stalemate between the pair regarding a run to clear the prison.

"I'm going," Liz repeated. She turned and picked up her pistol and knife.

"You ain't. We got enough people. Stay here." Daryl hoisted his crossbow higher. "Someone's gotta keep everyone here safe."

"That's bullshit. It's a prison. There are cells to keep them safe."

"It'd be bullshit if you came and got hurt." Daryl replied plainly.

"You can't tell me what I can and can't do. You don't think I can do it," Liz snapped.

"No," Daryl agreed, raising his voice. He took a step closer and narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't."

Liz took a step back. Carl and Lori shifted uncomfortably and looked away. Everyone else was in the lunchroom loading up their weapons for the prison sweep, or organizing supplies in the cells.

"I ain't dragging you into God knows what's down there." Daryl stared at her unapologetically. "Be mad. I don't give a shit." He turned to leave.

Liz sneered. "I may as well start calling you Shane."

Daryl's lip curled, but he didn't respond. Instead, he turned and marched toward Rick and the scouting group.

After a moment, Liz snarled aloud. "Wait." She ran after him and spun him around roughly. "I'll kill you if you die." She pressed her lips into his and kissed him aggressively.

"That's the deal," Daryl mumbled into her mouth. " _Ouch,_ " he hissed when she nipped his bottom lip.

"For the record, you're an ass and I'm pissed." Liz sneered after him as he joined the men.

Daryl turned and shot her another look. "No kiddin'." He grinned at her sneer before taking off to clear the prison.

* * *

The calls came before the footsteps did. "Get supplies!" "Get the first aid kit!" "Help!" "Get a bed ready!" "We need help!"

Liz jumped up and unlocked the cell block door. The group came pounding by in a blur, with someone on a cart, and a lot of blood dribbling onto the floor behind them. "What happen-" she started, but stopped when the cart came to a halt. Hershel's leg had been hacked off and he was bleeding and unconscious. "Carl, get the kit! The first aid kit!" Liz called. Carl took off, his eyes wide in horror.

The women in the cell block ran to the commotion. Maggie and Beth bent over their dad in horror and T-Dog had to drag them away so Lori and Carol could work on him.

"Oh, god," Lori exclaimed, pressing a towel to the stump of Hershel's leg. "What happened? Is anyone else hurt? Rick?"

Rick gave Lori a pained look and shook his head. "'s fine. Just Hershel."

"Who are they?" Carol asked, nodding toward the gate.

Liz glanced up from Hershel just long enough to see a group of living men standing opposite of them.

"Prisoners," Daryl's voice came. He was standing at the gate with his bow raised. "They ain' comin' in here."

Liz dropped her head back down and reached for a piece of gauze. They needed Hershel. Lori's baby was due any day. Maggie and Beth needed their father. They all needed his wisdom. The group couldn't take the blow of losing someone.

"This was supposed to be the end of shit like this," Liz growled in anguish. She glanced up and locked eyes with Rick. "I thought the prison was supposed to be safe."

Rick's lip curled and he backed away slowly, his hand on his pistol. Liz had already turned her attention back to Hershel and didn't notice him stalk out of the cell and storm away. 

* * *

"He's gonna live," Beth said plainly that night. "He will." She nodded.

Maggie stared glumly at her but didn't speak. The glow of the lanterns reflected in her green eyes.

"Yeah," Glenn added quietly from beside her. "He'll be all right." He wrapped his arm around Maggie and gave her a squeeze, but she scooted further away and continued her silent solace.

Daryl stood up and grabbed his bow. "I'm takin' watch," he grumbled.

"Liz is already out there," Rick replied.

"Then I'll keep her company," Daryl mumbled. He didn't care who was on watch or what was outside. He'd take a dozen walkers over the awkward sorrow inside. Hershel wasn't dead, but he could be in an hour or a day. When there was nothing he could do to help, it left Daryl feeling especially agitated and restless. As he walked out to the guard tower, his mind replayed the events of the run and what had gone badly. He felt guilty. If he'd been faster or in a different spot Hershel wouldn't be missing a leg and dying in a prison. On the other hand, if things had gone any differently, someone could have died straight-up. He shook his head and tried to push the thoughts away.

A shuffling sound caught his attention. In one swift move, Daryl rose the bow and looked through the scope at his target. He snorted when a fluffy grey cat stared back at him through the crosshairs. "You seekin' refuge, too?" When the cat _meeeow_ ed at him in reply, he grinned. If animals were hiding out in the prison, it must not be too overrun. He picked up the cat and carried it out to the guard tower.

* * *

Liz had seen Daryl coming, so she didn't jump when he stepped into the tower. She did jump, however, when a cat meow rang out.

"Brought you a present," Daryl said dryly. The cat leapt from his arms onto Liz's shoulder. It _meow_ ed again and perched itself on her collarbone and shoulder.

"Where the hell did you find a cat?" Liz asked, reaching up and petting the silky fur.

"Inside," Daryl replied, sitting down. "Busy night?"

"Took down three in about two hours. Pretty slow." Liz pulled the cat into her arms and continued to stroke his fur. She stared at the animal's yellow eyes and tried to avoid Daryl's gaze. Liz wanted to ask what exactly had happened during the run, but she pretty much knew. Things went south frequently. Situations never went as you expected them to. They'd learned that time and time again as they went from house to house during the winter. No one had paid such a price, though. "How's Hershel?" she asked at last. The cat jumped up onto the window ledge and sat for a moment before jumping out onto the walk and strolling back to the prison.

"Alive."

Liz nodded and decided whether she wanted to fight or not. As exhausting as it was to see Hershel on what could be his death bed, she decided to pick one. "Maybe that wouldn't have happened if you let me come on the run."

Daryl studied Liz's face. Her nostrils were flared and she wasn't blinking at him. He knew the look: she was looking to fight with him. He didn't want to waste his breath fighting an argument he couldn't win, but he prepared for battle anyway. "Maybe that would've happened sooner."

Liz narrowed her eyes and gave her fiercest sneer. "More manpower is always better. Apparently you men didn't have it handled like you all always say."

"We didn't have anyone to babysit, so yeah, we had it handled."

"You needed another weapon. I could have saved him, maybe."

"You could be dead and buried, maybe." Daryl's nostrils flared.

Liz recoiled. "Why do you always do that?"

"It ain' a game, Liz. Don't be like Andrea. You'll go on runs when you need you. Don't put yourself in danger just to do it." Daryl crossed his arms and pursed his lips.

"Don't call me Andrea," Liz snarled. "I'mma ask you somethin'. Do you really think I'm as much of a liability as her?" She turned on Daryl and pressed her finger into his chest. "I've saved your ass more than once."

Daryl looked down his nose at the girl staring up at him. Her amber eyes flashed in anger, but  
he shook his head. "Stop."

"You're saying I _didn't?"_ Liz growled. When Shane had died, she'd expected a level of freedom. Yet Rick, Daryl, and everyone else had stepped in and assured that she remained protected and in the backseat. While Maggie picked up a gun and learned to shoot, Liz was told to stay behind. She gritted her teeth and tried to hold back angry tears. "I'm not a kid. I'm not some useless-"

"You want me to let you go out and get yourself killed to prove a point?" Daryl spoke. His voice was dangerously quiet.

"I want you to-"

"It don't matter what you want anymore," Daryl snapped. "Quit bein' dramatic. You miss all the attention?" He leaned forward and Liz backed down out of habit. "People got better shit to worry about and aren't makin' a huge deal of being around you – that puttin' you in a mood?"

"I'm not in a mood, and you know that's crap. I'm not like that!" Liz cried, reaching out and giving Daryl a shove.

Before she could reach out again, Daryl grabbed her arms, spun her around, and crushed her back against his chest. "I said _stop,"_ he hissed in her ear.

Liz's anger boiled over into lust. A belligerent sexual tension always hung in the air when they argued. She sucked in a breath through her teeth and arched her back, effectively grinding her ass against Daryl. Chills ran down her arms and she craned her neck to his. "I don't want to stop," she whispered before kissing him.

Daryl released her and Liz immediately pulled off her shirt. He leaned against the wall and pulled the girl against him as their lips crashed together in a messy, passionate kiss. Daryl fumbled with the clasp of her bra as Liz deftly whipped off his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. Her fingers brushed along the bands of muscle on his abdomen and she purred. A frantic air sizzled around them as they undressed each other.

Words and sentiments tumbled around Daryl's mind as he picked up Liz and held her against the wall. None of them would form together into a coherent thought, so he gave a smirk and chuckle as Liz wrapped her legs around his waist and ran her nails down his back.

"What's so funny?" Liz whispered.

"Never thought prison sex could be like this," he mumbled as he pushed into her. He bit his bottom lip and tipped his head back. "Ah, fuck." It had been some time since they'd had a chance to be together, and even when he replayed their previous encounters in his head, she never felt this tight. A warm sensation spread from the bottom of his torso into his stomach. He squeezed Liz's ass and enjoyed that in a world where everything was hard and jagged, she was soft and plump.

Liz held herself up on Daryl's shoulders and rolled her hips back and forth as Daryl thrusted. " _Harder,"_ she hissed. She pressed her nails into the skin of Daryl's back, careful not to catch one of his scars. " _Harder."_

He obeyed and fucked her until her legs trembled against him. Daryl pulled back and let Liz's feet drop to the floor. "Bend over," he growled.

Liz stumbled to the wall and leaned against it, staring out over the horizon as she did. _No walkers._ Suddenly Daryl's hands were on her hips, and his hard cock squeezed into her from behind. She let out a soft moan and braced herself against the wall as he slammed into her.

Daryl bit his lip and tried not to groan as he slowed his pace. He watched as the black tattoos on her skin twitched as he made contact with her. Her black hair was tumbling down onto her back, her porcelain skin glowing in the moonlight. The toned muscles in her back flexed and relaxed as she worked her body to his rhythm.

" _Daryl,"_ Liz breathed as waves of euphoria shook her body. Her nipples tingled as she came. She arched her back and cried out before laughter bubbled through the tower. Liz's muscles contracted and Daryl came shortly after.

"Geeze," Liz breathed. "We should fight more often."

Daryl grinned and pulled his jeans back on. "I ain' no help in there. I'm gon' stay here. You can go in, if you want. I'll cover your guard duty."

Liz pulled her clothes back on and shook her head. "Nah." She watched Daryl fasten his belt. "I'm gonna be busy here in another twenty minutes or so."

Daryl pulled her against him and kissed her. In a world that made absolutely no sense, complete with the walking dead and a celebrity sleeping in his arms every night, things _could_ be worse.


	17. She's No One's Bitch

Daryl never thought he'd attend a wedding at a prison, but here he was in the yard watching Glenn and Maggie get hitched. Liz was beside him, beaming from ear to ear and holding onto his arm as she gazed dreamily at the bride and groom. Daryl found himself bored, but he acted interested for Glenn and Maggie's sake. Hershel was giving a speech on love and how important it was during this new world, et cetera. Daryl swayed back and forth and scanned the horizon for walkers. They'd done a good job clearing them away before the wedding, but he didn't like that no one was on guard duty.

Liz cheered loudly and Daryl snapped back to the present. Maggie and Glenn were sharing a passionate kiss as Hershel chuckled behind them.

"No," Daryl said as Beth looked back at him with a dreamy look on her face.

"Hmm?" Liz said. "She didn't even say anything."

"I see how you're both lookin' at me." He set his lips in a scowl. "Stop."

"It's not like you have a choice to _not_ be together, anyway. A baby does that," Beth smiled, then immediately frowned when Carol spun and exclaimed, "What?!"

Snorting, Daryl shook his head. "Ain' no baby besides Rick's. Don't mean nothin' to me."

Clearing her throat, Liz glanced around uncomfortably. "Well," she trailed off.

Daryl's stomach dropped and he suddenly couldn't breathe. He reached out and held on to Liz's shoulder to make sure he wasn't dreaming. When words wouldn't form, he stared at her. Now, everyone's attention, even Glenn and Maggie's, was on them.

"I'm sorry," Beth quickly said. "You said you were going to tell him, so I -"

Daryl backed up, nodded, then turned and walked back toward the prison.

"That could have gone better," Liz mumbled. "Sorry to steal your thunder. Today's about Glenn and Maggie. Quit lookin' at me."

Maggie walked over and hugged Liz. "Oh, my god," she breathed. "Oh my God."

Liz laughed nervously. "Yeah. Oh my God."

That night, Liz finally found Daryl. He entered the cell block silently, then sighed when Liz walked toward him. Daryl shook his head. "No."

Liz nodded. "Yeah. I've known for a few days. Beth only knew because-"

"Don't matter." Daryl set down his gear, then ran a hand through his hair. "A fucking broken condom." Without warning, he turned and kicked the wall. He slammed a cell door and hung against it, his head dropped low.

"You done?" Liz asked as she leaned against the bars beside him. Even as he thrashed about, Liz knew better than to be afraid of him. Growing up with Shane had ensured that.

"I'm going out." Daryl picked his gear back up and headed out to the yard without another word.

 _Just as well,_ Liz thought. She touched her stomach and prayed the baby had her temper. "Be safe."

"Yeah," Daryl growled back to her.

"He'll be fine," Maggie called as she popped her head out of her cell. "Wanna talk about it?"

Liz sighed. "Sure. Some wedding night for you, huh?"

"Glenn's on guard duty. And stop that. No one's blaming you."

"I didn't mean for this to happen. We tried to be careful. You heard him." She laughed. "If this was the old world, everyone would be so excited. Everyone loves babies. The tabloids would be going crazy. 'Singer Impregnated by Stalker,' or something crazy would be all over at the check-out aisles."

"Hey," Maggie laughed. "Everyone is excited. Everyone still loves babies. Look at Judith."

Liz let the smirk fall from her face. "All day, everyone has been looking at me like this is a death sentence. It's too soon after Lori-" she trailed off. "It'll be different, though."

Maggie nodded. "I hope so."

* * *

For days Daryl couldn't look at Liz. He took additional guard shifts, and when he wasn't in the tower, he patrolled the fence, violently killing walkers through the chainlink. She didn't let that bother her. Surely he felt guilty, responsible for the baby. To get out of the prison, Liz joined Glenn and Maggie on a trip into the town for supplies.

As they'd toted their haul back into the Jeep, chatting happily, a sudden flash of black crossed Liz's eyesight. She gasped and reached for her gun as a group of outsiders surrounded them, guns raised. It was as if they'd come out of nowhere. The trio reached for their weapons.

"Put that down," a large man snarled from behind her.

Liz glanced toward Glenn and Maggie, who were also hesitant to put down their weapons.

"Drop them," a different man snapped. "Now!"

Liz reluctantly lowered her weapon.

As one of the men reached out to snatch the gun from her, he paused. "Holy shit." He turned back to his friends. "Look who it is. It's Liz Clark."

The men whooped and awed. "Holy shit! Bring her back. Governor's going to love this."

"Oh, you got it." The guard moved in to grab her around the waist.

Without thinking, Liz swung at the man, hoping to snatch her gun back. He immediately landed a blow across her face, dropping her to the ground.

* * *

"They've been gone a while," Rick announced as the sun began to set that evening. He was walking the yard with Daryl and doing most of the talking, as per the norm.

Daryl looked up and nodded once. "Yeah."

"Ain't you worried?"

Daryl shook his head. "Nah."

"Look - I get how you feel. Really. Liz pregnant- it's a good thing. It ain't gonna end up like Lori." Rick's voice grew thin. "She'd had trouble with Carl. Liz hasn't had a baby. It'll be okay." He clapped Daryl on the back.

"Shouldn't'a let her go out there," Daryl grumbled.

Rick snorted. "Good luck trying to get that girl to stay put and take orders." He grinned. "She hasn't changed a bit since she was a kid. Shane got the temper, but she got the common sense to go with it."

"I shouldn't'a let her go. You're right. It's late." Daryl frowned. "I'm goin' after her."

"Give them the night. Glenn and Maggie - they'll be fine." Rick nodded. "It'll be fine. You know how it is out there."

Daryl hoisted his bow up on over his shoulder and surveyed Rick for a moment before nodding. "If they ain't back by the morning, then." 

* * *

"Ah, damn it, girl, I knew you were bad news the moment we saw you in camp back in Atlanta. What'd you have to come out swingin' for? We weren't going to hurt you. Not women. No, sir-ee."

Startling awake, Liz tried to open her eyes, but found the task nearly impossible. The could feel the ground beneath her was wet, and her thigh was throbbing painfully. "Daryl?"

"What?"

Liz paused. _That accent. Daryl? No._ "Where's Daryl?" She finally opened her eyes and blinked into the light. The concrete floor; the smell of chewing tobacco. _Merle_ _Dixon_ _._ "What's going on?"

"My baby brother- you lookin' for him? e's alive?" Merle knelt down and helped Liz sit up. "You know? You've seen him? How long ago?"

"We share a cell," Liz mumbled, suddenly realizing her lip was split and swollen. She tasted blood and spat a mouthful out. She seemed to still have all of her teeth, but the rest of her body was too sore to tell if anything was broken or severely injured.

Merle sat back and guffawed. "You're shittin' me. My baby brother's screwing a center fold."

Liz scowled. "I liked you better when you were dead."

"Ooh, hoo! I'd hate to see you on a good day. Turn that sass down. I'm the only one here who's can help ya." Merle frowned at the deep cut on her leg and Liz wondered where it had come from. "That leg's no good. Needs stitches but I can't do them for ya. We'll get you out of here and you can take me back to my brother."

"Glenn and Maggie," Liz said through her bloody teeth.

"We'll come back for them. I've got to see my brother."

Liz shook her head weakly. "Not without them. How can we trust you? You're with these guys?"

Merle grinned. "I've been with them because I thought my baby brother was dead. If he's alive, I'm still with you guys."


End file.
